


Severus, Redux

by SusanMarieR, TycheSong



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Drama, F/M, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-25 11:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 105,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanMarieR/pseuds/SusanMarieR, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TycheSong/pseuds/TycheSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cover Art

**Author's Note:**

> **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress, Dragoon811, and AdelaideArcher. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story by TycheSong, Banner and Cover Art by SusanMarieR.

 


	2. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>    
>    
>  A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.    
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter One:** _(In which Severus Snape creates an odd new potion, and it doesn’t work the way he thought it would.)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 19 May 1976, 11:47 PM_

Severus Tobias Snape was not handsome at sixteen, or even marginally good looking. He was too tall, too bony, too pale, too greasy, too intense, too edgy, too everything. He was well aware of it, and sometimes it bothered him, though he resolutely told himself that it didn't. He preferred to believe he was above caring about such things. People should respect him and wish to be near him because he was intelligent, because he was powerful, because he could understand and influence things they had not bothered dreaming of, not because he was handsome. If they didn't, then they were not the sort of people he cared to be friends with anyway.

Except...sometimes, when he saw how his classmates hung onto every word that came out of the undeniably handsome Lucius Malfoy, when they removed themselves out of the way of Sirius Black as he walked down the hall, when Lily, even _Lily_ who couldn't _stand_ James Potter still looked at him out of the corner of her eyes when she thought nobody was watching...sometimes, he couldn't help but wish he were a little less ugly.

He had begged. He had made a fool out of himself to the point where the whole school was laughing, and even the housemates who could stand him held him in contempt. Lily had been adamant in her refusal to continue even their friendship. It was hardly fair, considering his situation. In Slytherin House, you were either god or minion. There really wasn't an in-between. He was lucky, the uncontested Lord of Slytherin House had taken him under his wing as a first year, and that protection had extended through later years. The rest of the school may view him as a laughing stock, but he didn't live with _them,_ did he? It was a relatively small price to pay in order to be treated with respect in his House.

With that respect came the responsibility to live according to the views and ideals of his House. Purity, Power, No Compromise. It wasn't as if it was even wrong, really. His father was proof enough of that. Sirius Black might be a complete dick, but his brother Regulus was a decent sort of chap, and his cousins...there could be no more perfect example of _why_ pureblooded families should stay that way than the Black sisters.

They were beautiful, elegant, regal, powerful and well-mannered. Bellatrix was only nine years his senior, followed by Andromeda at seven and Narcissa at five. All three were goddesses of Slytherin Perfection. Narcissa had even spoken to him, upon occasion. She was Lucius' fiancée, and Slytherin House took the responsibility of its sponsorships and mentorships _very_ seriously.

Currently, his mentor was attempting to finagle a place for him in the inner circle of _his_ Lord. Lord Voldemort was allegedly everything that Slytherin House stood for, if one were to trust Lucius Malfoy. Severus did; there was no one in whom he had more faith. Lucius had seen the potential, the greatness, the resilience in the ugly, skinny child, and for that Severus would believe and give him anything. According to him, Lord Voldemort was powerful, charismatic, and a beacon of conservative thinking in an increasingly backward world. So far, no invitations had been extended to his inner council to those who were not of pure blood.

Severus fully intended to be the first. He had already publicly denounced and disowned both of his parents in the Slytherin common room under oath. It hadn't been hard to do since one was a drunk Muggle, the other a broken and cowardly witch who pretended she wasn't and had died for the deception.

 _"You need to prove your worth, Severus. The Lord Voldemort will not grant you access to his closest and best on my word alone, though it helps that I sponsor you. You must show him your power, your worth. I know it's in you, Severus, you just need to give it free rein."_ Lucius never called him "Sev," or "Sevy" like Lily. Only Severus, which he said sounded more powerful and commanded respect.

So, here he stood, bent over a cauldron as he often was. Lord Voldemort had requested that Severus present him with a powerful potion as a tribute offering. Severus had a few ideas, of course, but he was confident about this one. It had taken him months to get to this point, months when it would have taken anyone else years, if they could have accomplished it at all.

Anyone could go back in time. Evan Rosier had explained Time-Turners, and Giselle Dolohov had even recited the little poem inscribed on them:

_"I mark the hours, every one_   
_Nor have I yet outrun the sun_   
_My use and value unto you_   
_Is gauged by what you have to do."_

It was telling, that little poem. It made it more than clear that they could only swivel time backward. _"Nor have I yet outrun the sun..."_ How much worth would he be if he could give Lord Voldemort the power of the future? He would be able to anticipate and influence the political climates, the investing world would be so much as his pet, and no battle or manoeuvre his enemies had could ever surprise him or fail to be defeated. Surely such a presentation would be worthy of not only a place in his inner circle, but even in a position of power.

No one would ever call him "Snivellus" or dare laugh at him again. Even Lily would have to be impressed by his accomplishment, and he would be able to magnanimously offer to keep her safe, to put her under his protection once Lord Voldemort was firmly in power. After she apologized for being a heartless bitch, of course. For misunderstanding how amazing he really was.

He let his mind drift into a pleasant fantasy where Lily, lovely red hair tumbling, big green eyes wet with tears, babbled her remorse for not forgiving his lapse in temper, apologising for not understanding that he'd had an image to maintain, and swearing her undying gratitude to him. She would peek up at him under those long lashes, the way she pretended not to look at that shirty wanker James Potter.

Abruptly, he realised he was stirring a little more forcefully than he should, practically sloshing his creation outside his Standard Size 2, and forced himself to moderate his pace. Time enough for that later. He'd seen it, in the mirror, after all. Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin stood in chains before Lord Voldemort for being blood traitors and general idiots, while Lily sat by his side, watching approvingly, indisputably his.

He would drape her in emeralds when it happened, he fantasised, when he was powerful and a favourite of the Lord's with mountains of Galleons at his disposal like Lucius Malfoy. Slytherin green emeralds chased in silver that matched her jewel-green eyes. Gold was too warm a colour for her fair skin, anyway. And even she admitted that red went horribly with her hair as opposed to green or blue.

Severus sat back from his cauldron for a moment and studied the philter inside. It was complete. Ten long months of research and experimentation had come to this. He knew it wouldn't fail this time; he could feel it in his bones. If it did...if it failed, then forward motion in time just simply wasn't possible. At that point, he really had no more time to waste trying it again; it would be better to move on to something that would prolong life, or make one impervious to all poisons or something along those lines. Less to be gained, but surely Lord Voldemort would be pleased by a potion that made assassination attempts near-impossible.

He glanced at his arithmantic equations, scribbled on bit of parchment near his work, and carefully measured a small amount of the midnight-blue liquid into a cup. Twenty minutes. He would send himself forward twenty minutes as a test. If everything went according to his plan, he would be able to present the philter and the appropriate arithmantic calculations to Lord Voldemort at his official introduction next month. He would be the youngest Death Eater Pledge and only half-blood accepted. He knew he would.

He met his eyes in the large mirror across the deserted dungeon classroom he had been secretly brewing in. His image smirked triumphantly, toasted himself, and drank the measured liquid in one gulp, then the scene that had been replaying before—the Gryffindor berks in chains, Lily smiling up at him in emeralds and thanking him for his forgiveness of her ill-treatment—started over, replaying. Severus smirked back, and quaffed his own cup.

His vision tunnelled, went foggy and glassy in turns at the edges, and faded.

It came back slowly, with negative blotches of light tampering with his vision. It was as if he had been staring at bright light for too long. He blinked rapidly several times, trying to clear his vision, gripping the table edge to keep himself steady. The world slowly righted itself, and he glanced about.

Everything was the same, of course. He had chosen his little hidey-hole of an abandoned classroom with care. Twenty minutes would certainly not have changed it if no one had found him yet after ten months. He reached into his robe’s pocket, and glanced at the battered pocket-watch he had dropped in there: 12:17 in the morning. Just a minute or so after he had drank the potion. The real test was if it was twenty minutes behind the elegant one he had borrowed from Lucius still sitting by the cauldron on the table. He staggered over to it, satisfactorily noting how well the potion seemed to have maintained its consistency after twenty minutes. That was good. Certainly it had been twenty minutes; he could feel that he was different, the world was different around him. Something must have changed.

The pocket watch on the table damningly read 12:17, also. Severus felt his face alter into a snarl. There had to be a mistake. It _had_ to have worked! Except, clearly it hadn't. Yelling an obscenity, Severus swept the glass beakers and bowls off the table with an only vaguely satisfying sounding crash. In a fit of temper, the cauldron followed, its useless contents spilling all over the dusty, dirty floor. A sharp word with his wand, and his notes ignited with a loud crack.

His mood black, Severus scooped up Lucius' pocket watch and he swept from the room.

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 19 May 1996, 12:17 AM_

His vision tunneled, went foggy and glassy in turns at the edges, and faded.

It came back slowly, with negative blotches of light tampering with his vision. It was as if he had been staring at bright light for too long. He blinked rapidly several times, trying to clear his vision, gripping the table edge to keep himself steady. The world slowly righted itself, and he glanced about.

The room was completely deserted. His table was still there, but that was the only thing still the same. Lucius' pocket watch, his cauldron, his supplies, even the mirror that had been there for more than ten months had somehow, in the last twenty minutes, been removed, along with everyone else.

There was no sign of the removal, no scratch marks or footprints in the light layer of dust on the floor, no sound, the door was still firmly closed and locked. In fact...Severus stared at the floor again, a cold feeling sweeping over him. Had his arithmancy calculations been off? Surely not. He was not a top student at Arithmancy, not like Lily or Giselle, but he was confident in his abilities. Yet...there was no way all of his things had been removed in a mere twenty-minute absence. Perhaps he was wrong, and one could only go back in time? Maybe he had blown himself backward rather than forward, and a great deal further than he thought, since his arithmancy was meant to be towards a _forward_ moving potion. Or perhaps he had put a decimal in the wrong place...

Severus' heart froze. What if he was accidentally twenty _hours_ in the future? What if he had missed an entire _day_ of classes? How in the world was he going to explain that?

Severus departed the room hurriedly, setting off down the deserted hall at a jog. He obviously needed to find Professor Slughorn right away, and make sure his Head of House was on his side before contemplating anything else. He turned a corner around a staircase, and came face to back with that _arse_ James Potter, with that damned grey cloak he was always carrying around tucked over one arm.

Well, at least he knew however much time he had lost, either backward or forward, it wasn't _that_ much. Severus scowled at his nemesis, then smirked and slashed his wand at him vindictively. James _howled_ very satisfactorily indeed, cussing like a sailor, and clutching his thigh. A nasty burn mark was there under his clothes, Severus knew. Not unlike the one James had given him last week. _Try riding your broomstick and catching the Snitch now, Potter!_

Leaving the wounded boy in the hall, Severus ran to the Head of Slytherin's quarters. Slughorn would still be awake, he knew. He skidded to a halt just outside the door when it flung open, surprising him enough that he nearly fell backward.

The man that stood there was oddly familiar, but no one Severus knew. His clothes were fine wool, excellently tailored, and stark, unrelieved black. Not unlike the sort of clothes Severus had envisioned for himself in his imagination. This man was also tall, thin, fair skinned and possessed of oily dark hair. But there the similarities between himself and Severus ended.

He was _old,_ for one thing, at least forty, with hard lines bracketing his mouth and pinching his eyes. And while he was thin, he wasn't the same sort of gaunt bonyness that Severus was. He also _radiated_ danger and power. Severus was dangerous, and powerful, but not like this. This man was the sort who could easily command obedience from even Lucius Malfoy. The man's black eyes widened in shock for a moment before narrowing in apparent hatred for Severus.

"What is this?" His voice was a low, autocratic snarl. "Some sort of joke, Potter?" He reached forward, striking like an attacking snake, gripping Severus' upper arm painfully and hauling him into the room he had just been about to exit.

Severus only barely had time to think incredulously. _Did he really just confuse_ me _with_ James Potter _?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think poor Severus is about to give himself a heart attack...hee hee hee
> 
> On a more serious note, this is just a little plot bunny that's been bouncing about my brain for a couple of weeks that I thought I would throw out there and see if there is any interest for me to continue it. If not, no harm, no foul. It was a fun idea to play with. If there is enough interest in what happens next, I'll continue it. As always, I would love to hear your opinions, either way. Reviews feed the muse, or are the ammunition to shoot an awful idea dead. Keep that in mind, please!


	3. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling philter to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Two:** _(In which the Elder and Younger Severus Snape have a conversation between themselves, and then with Albus Dumbledore.)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 19 May 1996, 12:25 AM_

The door slammed, and Severus was hauled by the man's pinching grip to be plunked unceremoniously into one of the chairs in front of the Head of Slytherin's desk. Severus briefly wondered when Professor Slughorn had removed his beloved pictures to make way for more books on the shelves in the room. It seemed out of character in the extreme. In fact, now that Severus was thinking about it, _all_ of the professor's personal effects were missing. There was only a week and a half left to the school term; perhaps he had left early, and this man was taking his classes?

Or perhaps he had been completely off in his calculations and it was already summer hols. No, Potter was still here. If it were the summer already, Potter would have gone back home to Potter Place, in Godric's Hollow, and taken Black with him, as they had last year. Professor Slughorn must have just left early for some reason.

Severus shifted in his chair. The man who had deposited him there whirled about furiously, his robes flaring dramatically, and glared at him with more venom than Severus thought was fair, considering they'd never met before.

"You are out after curfew. Where are your sidekicks, Potter?"

Severus lifted his chin mutinously. "Look, I don't know if you've _met_ Potter, but he doesn't look a thing like me, and in general I do my damnedest _not_ to be near him or his idiot friends."

 _"Do not play games with me!"_ The man actually roared it at him. "You are the only one who has seen my memories of that time period, and even if you were not, no other student would have the insolence or temerity to do something like this! I know you stole from my stores a few years ago, I _know_ Granger was experimenting with Polyjuice then and glamours now, do not _dare_ try to tell me you're _not Potter!"_

Severus was confused, and masked it with icy disdain. "I do not know you. I've never heard of anyone named Granger, and if I were Potter I would probably be heading for the Hospital Wing right now and whining about the ouchie on my leg."

The man stared at him, arrested, for a moment. "You are actually trying to tell me that you are Severus Snape?" Severus could feel the man carefully trying to probe his mind undetected and snapped his Occlumency shields up with an insulting sneer. No one ever expected him to be as good an Occlumens as he was.

"I am."

The man studied him carefully, slowly walking around the chair he was seated in. "How old are you?"

Severus hesitated. He didn't know this man, after all. Should he really be talking to him? The man had seemed sceptical that he was really who he said he was, and he knew about Potter, and seemed to agree with the opinion that he was a git. And he was powerful. Superbly, richly, darkly powerful. It was more likely he was an ally than foe. For a brief, wild moment, he wondered if this was the Lord Voldemort, checking up on him, before his logic returned. Lord Voldemort would have better things to do than check up on a half-blood student petitioning for the chance to be a Pledge.

"Sixteen." He answered finally.

"It's been what, two months or so since you called Lily Evans a Mudblood?" The question was probing, as if he were trying to determine certainty.

Severus felt colour stain his cheeks and nodded stiffly.

The older man was silent for a while, just staring at him. That piercing look made Severus want to babble out everything he wanted to know, and the man wasn't even attempting to use Legilimency. Severus clenched his teeth together and glared balefully back.

"In the beginning of the year, you found an unused classroom to conduct your 'experiments' in. In that room was a large mirror. _Not_ an ordinary one. Tell me what you saw in it." The man's eyes narrowed and he clarified. "The _first_ time."

Severus hadn't told anyone about that mirror before, much less that it had given him two visions of the future. This man was oddly like Headmaster Dumbledore, in that he just knew things he shouldn't, without using Legilimency. Severus bared his teeth at the man in a parody of a smile. "I don't have to tell you anything!"

The man's gaze turned into an unpleasant mixture of mocking and disdain. "Allow me to tell _you_ something then. You have a scar on your right arm from a broken bone when you were seven. Your father backhanded your mother so hard she fell into you and you cracked your arm against the table. The bone actually stuck through the skin. Your father had snapped your mother's wand years earlier, and she was too afraid of him to take you to St. Mungo's.

"So they took you to the Muggle hospital. Your doctor had funny hair but a kind smile. His name was Dr. Marot. You had to lie and say you sustained your injury by jumping inappropriately off a swing-set, and have your arm in a cast for two months. When you were sorted into Slytherin, you told your housemates that the scar was from a duel you got into the preceding summer because you didn't want to look weak; you knew enough jinxes already at twelve from your mother's old course books that they believed you."

Severus felt a chill tingle down his spine. "How...how do you know that?"

"Tell me what you saw in the mirror the first time, Severus, and I will tell you." It was said oddly gently.

"I...I saw her. Lily. Evans, I mean." He lifted his chin, determined not to slip and call her by her first name again, not in front of this man. Any sign of weakness could spell potential disaster. "She was letting me fuck her."

A pained look flashed through the man's eyes, so fast Severus nearly missed it. "She was making love to you, you mean. Her eyes like stars. You’d just been married; she had publicly chosen you over anyone else." His voice was slightly wistful.

"How do you know these things?" Severus stood, glaring menacingly. "And don't talk about her that way, old man. That's bloody perverted of you. She's sixteen. You're like forty-something."

The man's eyes flashed fire. "Thirty-six." He snapped. "Do you know what you've done, you little idiot, messing around with time travel the way you have the last ten months?"

 _"Stop digging around in my head!"_ Severus shouted, now convinced that the man was using Legilimency. He had to be; he was just so subtle that Severus couldn't feel it.

"I am not _'digging around'_ in your head, Snape," the man snapped irritably. He was silent for a long moment, studying Severus carefully. "Do you know what today's date is?"

Severus opened his mouth to answer, and then paused, closing it again and shaking his head sullenly. The man sneered, his upper lip curling, and he continued. "Today's date, at least for the last half hour, is the twentieth of May, 1996."

"Nineteen ninety..."

"Yes. Nineteen _ninety_ -six. Congratulations," The older man's sarcasm was heavy. "You've managed to vault yourself twenty years into the future."

"Then you're...?"

"Oh, yes. I'm you." The man sounded tired, suddenly, careworn. "Or at least, I used to be, once upon a time. A bloody fool." He arched a cynical eyebrow. "Not quite what you expected, is it?"

Severus took in the vision of the powerful, ugly older man dressed in _teaching robes_ of all things, and shook his head. "You're lying." Severus narrowed his eyes cunningly. "I just saw Potter in the hall. He didn't look any older at all." 

"Did you? You likely saw _Harry_ Potter, not James Potter. You would know, perhaps, why Potter might be 'heading for the Hospital Wing right now whining about an ouchie?'"

Severus carefully kept his face expressionless, and shrugged with exaggerated innocence. "He was limping."

The man's lips twisted in a small, unpleasant smile. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor, for being out after curfew, Potter," he murmured.

"You're _really_ me?" Severus asked again, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that this man was himself.

His older self looked irritated. "You require more proof? You had a stuffed rabbit as a child named Fiver after the _Watership Down_ character. You think no woman could ever be as lovely as Lily Evans, but if you had to have a second choice you would pick Giselle Dolohov. You prefer honey in your Earl Grey to lemon but take it with both because Narcissa Malfoy—Black—does and claims it's the only proper way to drink Earl Grey. You're pants at arithmancy, and will never admit it out loud until just now." 

Severus took a shaky breath, glad he was sitting down. "Alright, twenty years in the future." He cleared his throat, and gave the man an unsettled look. "So. What do I do now? Just hang about until you can get your hands on a Time Turner to send me back? Or start working on a reverse potion to do the same thing? Under his breath, he muttered, I should look up Muggle lottery numbers."

"Neither!" The man glowered, and even knowing it was only himself, Severus couldn't help but feel intimidated. "Don't you _understand,_ idiot? I'm here, and I had no idea until you showed up that the potion had succeeded!"

Severus suddenly realised what that meant. "To go forward, the potion sends a...a...copy...for lack of better word. If I go back there will be two of us, even as there is now."

"Precisely, and I cannot-- _will_ not--let that happen." It was said with a harsh finality that left Severus in no doubt that the man meant it.

Incredulous, Severus burst, "Why? Think of how much we would be able to do with two of us!"

 _"Exactly!"_ His older self actually yelled it. "You have no idea the extent of the damage I caused at your age. I very nearly destroyed _everything_ that had ever mattered to me and or ever could. With two of me, we'd be lucky if the world remained intact long enough for us to ever _be_ thirty-six."

"So what, I'm just _stuck_ here?"

"It would appear so."

"I can't be just _stuck_ here! I have my formal introduction in a month!"

"I've already handled that, as you can see." The older man's voice was cold, uncaring.

"But the potion _works."_

"Yes, and thank Merlin I destroyed it and my notes. Imagine, the Dark Lord having control of time and creating duplicates of himself." He directed a hard look at Severus and said with deadly seriousness, "I would kill both of us before allowing that."

Shocked, Severus stared at him, working his mouth as he attempted to come up with an appropriate response. Finally, he said weakly, "So what, I just sit here, and watch you live my life?"

 _"MY_ life," the man grumbled. "I do not remember being this insufferable at that age." The elder Severus took a deep breath, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Severus recognised the gesture. He always did that when he had an awful headache coming on. Or brain freeze from too much ice cream after supper. Somehow he didn't think his elder version had recently consumed a surplus of ice cream. "You are simply going to have to create a new life for yourself here," he finally continued, calmly.

"And just how am I supposed to do that? I have no home, money, or even my own name. You have it all."

The man nodded thoughtfully. "It can be arranged. I also have some very resourceful friends and allies."

Severus looked at him warily. His words suggested a position of influence and power, far beyond that of the simple teacher his robes suggested. His antipathy towards his own history and Lord Voldemort just as clearly suggested that something had gone horribly wrong, however. Carefully, Severus asked, "You're on the Lord Voldemort's council then? You're a Death Eater?"

His elder self winced, and made an aborted movement with his left fist, clenching it slightly. "The Dark Lord. Or even better, call him 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.'"

Severus regarded him with amused incredulity. "Really? 'You-Know-Who?' It sounds like we're trying to keep a secret from a four-year-old."

"Just do it." His elder self resumed his pacing, his robe fluttering in dramatic sweeps. "Obviously, we're going to have to have a talk with Albus Dumbledore."

Severus shrugged scornfully. "That biased geriatric? How in the world is _he_ supposed to help me?"

"Do _not_ insult him. He is more aware than you realise, but he is in the middle of events greater than you can fathom right now. He has to make difficult decisions. Come."

"I'm just tired of him always making his so-called 'difficult decisions' against my favour."

"Trust me, that didn't change any as you got older. Perhaps this new life will give you the possibility of that actually happening." The elder Severus stared at him a moment, then rapped him on the head smartly with his wand, ignoring the muttered _Ow!,_ and Disillusioned him. Nodding once in apparent satisfaction, he gripped him by the shoulder of his robes, and propelled him out of the room briskly, toward the front entrance of Hogwarts.

"Could you _stop_ man-handling me?"

"Don't be ridiculous." His elder self smirked. "One can't man-handle one's self. Now be quiet."

* * *

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, 19 May 1996, 12:46 AM_

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, suited the name of it's street rather admirably. The house, probably quite lovely at one time, was eerie and had an unsettlingly dark ambiance, even with the fire crackling strongly. It was not the sort of place Severus would have imagined the Headmaster staying at, particularly while school was still in session.

The elderly wizard only gave him a long, measured look when he asked, however, and focused his attention on his elder self. The dark wizard sneered, and banished to a nearby chair with an exasperated, "Sit down, shut up, and don't touch anything." Sullenly, Severus complied, and listened as his older self explained the situation to Professor Dumbledore.

"When I was fifteen, I experimented for a while with the possibility of time travel to the future. At the time, of course, the philter did not appear to work, as evidenced by my being here today. It seems, however, that I did achieve my goal, after a fashion. I sent a _copy_ of myself, for lack of better term", here he gave his younger version a sour look, "to the future."

Dumbledore glanced at Severus, this time with more interest. "Well, then. This is wonderful news!" The Headmaster beamed, and Severus couldn't help but wonder if the old man had finally lost what few marbles he'd had twenty years previously.

His elder self apparently thought the same, and asked acidly, "Wonderful, Headmaster?"

The dotty old man smiled eagerly. "Of course, Severus! You were one of the most intelligent, talented, and dedicated young men of your generation, why wouldn't I be pleased to have two of you, for however long it lasts?"

He made a face. "He—I—was creating that philter to prove my worth to the Dark Lord. He doesn't have the same motivations that I do, or the experiences that I have had to have had to enlighten him.

The Headmaster studied Severus thoughtfully. "That is rather easily remedied, Severus."

Severus shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry," he muttered. "Which Severus are you talking to? You're looking at me, but..."

The headmaster's eyebrows shot up, and he chuckled. "Quite right. How's this, then? I shall refer to the adult Severus Snape as Professor Snape, and you as simply Severus for the time being."

Professor Snape snarled. "This has disaster written all over it. How are we going to explain this? To the Order, to the school, to _him?_ As for 'easily remedied,' just what, precisely, were you planning on telling him? We don't even know if this...apparition is permanent."

Professor Dumbledore gave Professor Snape a disapproving look. "I imagine that we are going to explain this by simply saying that Severus is a relative of yours. A son, perhaps, or a cousin. There is only a week and a half of school left, so we only need to keep him a secret that long; he can stay here through the summer, getting caught up in current events and deciding what his role will be, and start school again next autumn."

"Are you expecting to be back at Hogwarts next year, then?" Professor Snape asked solicitously. He shook his head scornfully, "Even if that is the case, how is he supposed to be my relative? It's fairly standard knowledge among my peers that I have no relatives, and if _he_ were to find out that I had hidden a child from him...not even you would be able to save me, Albus."

"Perhaps he is the son of an illegitimate brother or sister?"

"What, it's not enough that I'm a half-blood, you're going to make me on the wrong side of the blanket, too?" Severus cut in, objecting. It was _his_ life they were deciding without him, after all.

Dumbledore gave him a serious look. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a half-blood, Severus. The most powerful wizards and witches of the last century have been half-blooded or Muggleborn, yourself and Lord Voldemort included."

Severus gave a start. "Lord V-"

Professor Snape's throat cleared harshly.

Severus gave him an aggravated look. _"'You-Know-Who'_ is a half-blood?"

"Yes, Severus. He is." He gave Severus a chiding look, "It is unfortunate that you consider it an issue, with so much of import at stake. However, if it bothers you so much, we could always say that your mother's lover was another wizard. You would still be the progeny of an illegitimate son, but it would make your status that of a pureblood."

Professor Snape's lip curled identically to Severus's. "My mother would never have cheated on my father,"

"She was too afraid of him to do something like that." Severus completed the thought.

"But no one else knows that." The Headmaster said mildly.

"Fine, whatever. I start school in September. I'm going to need a different name, and clothes and supplies. I don't have anything with me except what I'm wearing now, and my wand."

The headmaster waved a belligerent hand. "That will not be an issue. There is also a matter of your house, Severus."

Both Severus and Professor Snape looked at the Headmaster sharply.

"My house?" Professor said softly, dangerously. "What about it?"

"I'm not talking about Spinner's End, Sev-Professor. I mean his school house."

"I am a Slytherin. I've always been, and I always will." The professor's voice was dangerous. Clearly he knew what the Headmaster was suggesting, and he just as clearly was Not Pleased. Severus crossed his arms and tilted his own chin defiantly. He was _proud_ of his house.

"Professor," Dumbledore said gently, reasonably. "Think about who we are talking about. You've just told me that he in the process of creating a dangerous potion in order to prove himself worthy enough to join the Death Eaters. Do you really want to put him—yourself at sixteen—back into the direct social influence and mentality of Malfoy and Zabini and Nott? Do you really think it's wise to surround him with loyal supporters of your Dark Lord without explaining the truth to him? He does not have the same experience with Occlumency that you have, after all, so we would not be able to risk the truth inside Slytherin house.

"This is our chance to place him in an environment more conducive to our cause, and blame it on the Sorting Hat. Surely the Dark Lord would have to understand you had no control over his sorting, and if he grew up apart from you, it explains your lack of direct control over his actions."

"I am _not_ going to be or let you make him one of your pet Gryffindors! I won't allow it!" The Professor seethed, and Severus wholeheartedly agreed. Certain lines just couldn't be crossed, after all. 

"No, I doubt anyone would view that with anything but scepticism, more is the pity. But perhaps Ravenclaw? You cannot deny that you are incredibly intelligent. You would fit in nicely there, have a chance to flourish without being sorted automatically into one extreme environs of this war or the other."

Professor Snape pursed his lips in clear disapproval, and Severus found himself hoping that the older man would refuse. Slytherin was his home, his rightful place. After a long, icy silence, however, his older self nodded reluctantly. "Ravenclaw, then."

The Headmaster beamed. "Excellent!" He cocked his head to the side, and then beamed again. "Ah, this is wonderful. I'm certain you'll appreciate how this is all falling into place neatly, Professor." He turned and casually addressed Severus, "Here comes the _perfect_ person to help you in your new transition to 1996."

He raised his voice, looking expectantly at the door. "Miss Granger, please do come in!"

Severus could only glance at himself in surprise when Professor Snape made a painful choking noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading--please review.


	4. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

**Chapter Three:** _(In which Harry has his wounds seen to, and Hermione pays a visit to Dumbledore in hiding.)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 20 May 1996, 12:33 AM_

Hermione was drowsily dreaming over her Transfiguration notes when Harry stumbled into the common room, swearing and limping. The upset was enough that she snapped to immediate attention, rising, wand in hand.

"Harry! What happened?"

"I have proof that Snape is a Death Eater!"

"Professor Snape. Proof? You're _sure?_ Professor Dumbledore has always seemed very certain of his loyalty, Harry."

"You remember second year? With Ginny and Tom Riddle's Diary?"

Hermione gave Harry an impatient look. "Of course I do, Harry."

"I think Snape might have one, too. A diary, I mean. Or maybe something else. But I _saw_ him tonight. Not like he is now, but like he was in the pensieve—our age. He _hexed_ me."

Hermione motioned for him to sit. "Harry, are you _sure_ it was Professor Snape? It could have been a glamour. I've been experimenting with them recently, and really, it's amazing what you can do with a glamour properly applied."

"I'm telling you, Hermione, it was _him._ The only ones who would know what he looked like at that age are the professors. None of them would hex me!"

Hermione frowned, and shook her head. "But why would the memory suddenly resurface now?"

"Who knows? Maybe Memory-Snape is back to kill Umbridge."

"Harry, you know Umbridge is either working for Voldemort or someone else who is. Professor Snape can hardly be trying to kill Umbridge as your proof that he's working for Voldemort."

"I'm telling you, he's using Dark magic!" Harry all but shouted it, and Hermione winced, glancing around the deserted common room in warning. 

"Harry, people are sleeping." Changing tactics, Hermione motioned with her wand at her friend's obviously injured leg. "Let me see."

Harry turned beetroot red, and stuttered, "It's on my thigh. I really don't think—"

"Harry, it's me or Madam Pomfrey. In which case, you can explain how you got this and why you were out after curfew and accept whatever detention Umbridge decides to give you when Madam Pomfrey has to report it. It's not as if you have to take your pants off, right?"

Harry grumbled, still red, but he started unfastening his trousers. On seeing the burn, Hermione sighed. It was long and ugly, but fortunately not very deep. It skidded from the top of his outer thigh across the muscle to just above his knee, the long welt raising a few blisters, but nothing too damaging. It did look incredibly painful, however.

"Not too bad," Hermione murmured reassuringly. "I'll just get you some Burn-Soothe, and a Tincture of Pain Relief." She stood, and headed toward the common room supply cupboard. The seventh year Potions students traditionally were in charge with keeping it stocked with the more common, basic potions. She wasn't sure when that particular tradition had started; apparently the Gryffindors had a long history of obtaining mild-to-moderate injuries that they would prefer not to report to the school Medi-Witch. 

"Hermione, what're we going to _do_ about Snape?"

"Professor Snape." Hermione corrected yet again. "I really think you should write to Professor Dumbledore about it, if you're that concerned. I bet if you addressed it to Snuffles, he could get it passed on."

"That's been your solution for everything this year! Hermione, he doesn't _care!_ He's been ignoring me all year long!"

Hermione retorted fiercely, "I still think you should have told him about what Umbridge is doing to you in detention! That goes beyond even corporal punishment, Harry, and you know it. It's abuse; it's _torture_ of a _minor_. Because you let her get away with it, how many more kids was she able to use it on? Every single time it happens it will be your fault for not speaking up, and mine for just standing by. I'm _neglecting_ students that I've been charged to protect as a prefect, Harry, based on your stubbornness." Hermione slammed the cupboard door open.

"I just...I can't let her think she's won, 'Mione. If I had snitched, she would've won. There are far more important things going on right now to worry about. Snape is using Dark magic, I know it, and the Ministry has something Voldemort wants! What if they're related, somehow? We _have_ to stop him. I _need_ to find out what's behind that door in my dreams!"

Hermione paused in the cupboard, the Burn-Soothe and Tincture of Pain Relief already in hand, and glanced over her shoulder. "That could very well be what Voldemort _wants_ you to think, Harry. He can't possibly be unaware of your connection, especially since you've used it to save Ron's dad."

"Or maybe he has just as much trouble keeping me out of his head as I do him!"

"You don't get to be the most powerful Dark wizard in the world without knowing how to Occlude properly, Harry." Hermione's frustration made her sharper than usual. "If you are seeing something from Voldemort's mind, it's because he either wants you to see it, or he doesn't think it matters if you see it or not. From what you said, whatever is behind that door is something that _matters_ to him. Ergo."

Harry turned from her and stared moodily into the fire. Hermione hesitated for a moment, and then, decision made, she added several drops of concentrated Dreamless Draught to the Tincture of Pain Relief. Harry obviously needed sleep. The sort that didn't have any dreams and that Legilimency couldn't penetrate. If he wasn't going to think logically or be reasonable, well, then, it fell to her. Really, she wasn't that surprised. It usually did fall to her to be the reasonable, clear-thinking one.

Swiftly she walked back to her best friend, refusing to allow herself to feel guilty for drugging him. She handed him the pain potion, and started dabbing the burn salve on his thigh liberally. His eyes were already half-mast when she finished tying off a bandage around it to keep the salve from smearing all over the place. "Come on, Harry, up you get. You need to either pull your trousers back up or take them and your shoes off, but either way it's time for bed."

"Tired..." Harry mumbled, fumbling with his waistband. "Gonna sleep out here."

"Okay, that's fine. Just make sure your trousers are on. We have young girls sleeping in this tower, and them coming down in the morning to find your trousers around your ankles is not something I can allow, even if some of them _want_ to see it."

"Too right." Harry mumbled, and managed to fasten his belt again.

"Go to sleep, Harry."

"Mmmmmmm."

He was out like a light. Hermione studied him a moment, and then conjured a blanket to drape over him. Whatever he had seen tonight, it was _something,_ she did believe that much. If Dumbledore didn't know already, he really should be told. If there was someone was wandering about Hogwarts grounds emulating students that shouldn't be, it was a real concern. After all, the history of such hidden characters--Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, Barty Crouch Jr--was not not precisely reassuring.

Hermione drummed her fingertips against a table for a moment, considering whether or not it was worth keeping one of her secrets, then with finality, stood. She generally took her time thinking out decisions, but once they were made, there was very little left to do but follow through. Reaching down, she snagged Harry's Invisibility Cloak, and throwing it on, exited the tower.

It was illegal to Apparate without a license. Illegal, and dangerous if one didn't know what one was doing. Not to mention difficult to practice as a student at Hogwarts, where Apparation was impossible except when the ban was lifted by the headmaster. 

Hermione had been fascinated with the idea of Apparition and Disapparition since she had first read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_ as a first year. The ability to teleport had seemed, at the time, the most obvious benefit to being magical. Just before her third year she had actually bought books on the subject, a basic instruction guide usually only bothered with by learning students, and _Time/Space Magical Anomalies,_ one of the sixth year Magical Theory class textbook. The second book had been extremely interesting—if a bit difficult for her to get through—containing lengthy chapters on the matter as well as on spatial displacement enchantments and Time-Turners.

She hadn’t worked up the nerve to actually attempt to Apparate until mid-way through her fifth year. It had just been too dangerous in her estimation—nightmares of slicing herself in half had deterred her when she might have usually pushed to try something above the generally accepted age level.

However, she had—purely by chance!—happened to come across the Apparation class for the older sixth and younger seventh year students. After two days of watching, she had decided to try. It hadn’t looked _so_ very difficult. After wobbling dizzily and nearly landing on her arse several times, she had learnt to Apparate a full year ahead of her classmates.

Hermione grimaced to herself, and mentally amended that perhaps it was a bit less than a year, considering how badly she'd abused her Time-Turner. When she had approached Professor McGonagall in her third year, lamenting her lack of time for so many interesting classes, she had already known that there were precedents of Time-Turners being administered to students for exactly that purpose. It had been mentioned in a footnote of _Time/Space Magical Anomalies._

Between her double-and-triple booked classes, her private self-taught lessons on a variety of subjects, the massive amount of extra study hours she'd needed, the extra-curricular activities she had been inevitably dragged into by Harry and Ron, and the once or twice a week she'd either given herself more time to sleep when she needed it or accidentally slept in and needed to roll time back to be to class on time...well. She would not be overly shocked to find out she had added a good several months to her age. She had returned it at the end of June more out of a self-preservation instinct than anything else.

Hermione shook her head, and concentrated on her current task, slipping through the halls of Hogwarts unseen. Her inattention nearly had her tripping over a trick stair before she had caught herself. Once she showed up at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place tonight, Dumbledore would know she could Apparate illegally. He might already know--there wasn't much that escaped the Headmaster--but she'd been fairly careful to mask her illegal practicing in Hogsmeade, so close to so many other magic users. 

Hermione stepped outside, and paused briefly in surprise. The air was far warmer than she expected for this time in the evening. _Or perhaps,_ she thought wryly, _it's my nerves._ She was about to break a rather extraordinary amount of rules, after all. Clutching Harry's cloak around her tightly, she ran down the hill to the front gates and slipped out. A deep breath to help focus her, and she turned on the spot with a satisfying _crack._

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, 20 May 1996, 1:11 AM_

Grimmauld Place looked much as it had in the summer, except even gloomier, if that were possible. The wards recognised her, and she was able to let herself in without much trouble. She removed the Cloak and folded it up carefully, placing it inside her beaded bag with another mental smile. The bag had been a result of her experimenting with the spatial displacement charms in _Time/Space Magical Anomalies._ It had turned out rather well, she thought. Certainly it had been useful at the Yule Ball.

A warm glowing light under the door to the drawing room on the first floor alerted her to where Sirius might be. With any luck, he would find her mis-adventure amusing and not explain to Professor Dumbledore precisely how she had gotten the information to him. Pursing her lips and preparing mentally preparing her excuses, she walked up to the door. She was just about to push it open when the salutation came from within.

"Miss Granger, _do_ come in!"

Caught, by Professor Dumbledore himself, no less. Chagrined, Hermione felt her stomach twist before and mentally shrugging. At least she could be certain he would get her message. Hermione opened the door and entered, and stopped short in shock. Eyes wide, Hermione babbled without thinking.

"Oh, Professor Snape, good evening, sir. I had wanted to speak to Professor Dumbledore about...well, _him_ but since _he's_ here already," she nodded at the young teenager who looked remarkably Snape-ish "then clearly the two of you already know and have everything well in hand. Very well, then. You should know Harry's scar has been hurting him again, and he keeps receiving dreams from You-Know-Who about the Department of Mysteries."

There was a stunned, awkward silence, and Hermione ducked her head. "I'll just get back to bed, now."

She turned to leave, and was halted by Professor Dumbledore's voice. "A moment please, Miss Granger."

She turned back again, her face flushed.

"You know who this young man is?"

Hermione glanced at Professor Snape and tilted her head back and forth in a response denoting uncertainty. "I have a few ideas, sir. According to Harry, he's well...except that I'm just not sure _how."_ Hermione stammered helplessly. "Is he really...I mean…" A sudden, horrifying thought occurred to her, and she cut herself off, eyes wide. "He hasn't run into _Snuffles_ yet, has he?"

The boy's mouth hung open slightly. "Who is _that?"_ He asked.

 _"That,"_ Professor Snape answered, his voice dripping disapproval, "is the most insufferable, annoying creature you will _ever_ have the misfortune of meeting in your life."

Hermione frowned, offended, despite knowing better than to believe her Potions professor would harbour any good will towards her. "Professor, do you have to bias him before we're even properly introduced?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself. 

Professor Snape arched an eyebrow at her and she wilted, stepping back a little self-consciously with a muttered apology. He waited a beat longer, and then said softly, "I have a keen self-preservation instinct, Miss Granger. It would be remiss of me _not_ to warn myself. One might even say it was cruel and unusual punishment."

"Mmmm. Something all the Hogwarts students are learning about this year, how nice." Hermione responded dryly. "Hello." She directed her gaze at the boy. "Just in case you decide to give me a chance despite all that, my name is Hermione Granger, Gryffindor, and I'm willing to be friends with a Slytherin if he is in return. You should know, though, I'm Muggle-born, so if that's going to be a problem I'd rather it was out in the open now." She smiled and extended a hand, trying not to show how nervous she was.

The boy seemed surprised, darting a look at her hand, then at her face, then back to her hand. An awkward moment passed before he took it, shaking briefly and letting go as if she were on fire. "Severus." He answered, studying her as if he were trying to gauge her sincerity. Or possibly sanity.

"Nice to meet you." She replied, then tilted her head in curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking, how did...how did you manage this?"

"Potions experience."

"Oh." Hermione nodded, floundering slightly, before offering, "I had one of those, once. Mine was...not favourable. Misinformation concerning one of the components, you see. Usually I'm quite good. You sent yourself _forward,_ in time? I didn't think that was possible."

He shrugged in response, but Hermione caught the faintest hint of pride in his eyes.

"You must be absolutely exceptional at Potions, then. Far better than I."

"Miss Granger, you _will stop_ trying to flatter me. There is serious business at hand." Professor Snape's voice was acid.

Hermione jumped with a slight squeak; she had forgotten her professor, momentarily. She turned, and attempting to regain her dignity, lifted her chin. "I'm not attempting to flatter you, sir. I was merely remarking that your...how old are you?" She directed the question at Severus.

"Sixteen," he answered, watching with undisguised interest. 

"I was remarking, Professor, that your sixteen-year-old self is better at Potions than I. I would never be so silly as to say something like that to _you._ You have a _mastery_ in potions, and you are my instructor. It is already a given that _you're_ better at Potions than I am." Daringly, she waved a hand dismissively and continued, "If I were to try to flatter you I would remark instead on your high level of intelligence or your incredible magical power. These are not only true, but also points of pride for you that cannot typically be improved upon significantly with age; only refined." She turned away from the thunderous expression rapidly building on Professor Snape's face to address the boy, "I don't suppose you're in a better mood than he is, generally?"

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted, his eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth. "Perhaps you could explain how you knew of Severus' existence, and how you knew to come here?"

"I believe you mentioned _Potter_ earlier, did you not?" The low interjection from behind her promised retribution, and Hermione winced.

Cautiously, she volunteered, "He was seen running through the halls, earlier, sir. There was some concern based on how alike he looked to a memory of the Professor. The incident from second year was brought up. As for here, it seemed the obvious choice. I figured even if you were not here, someone with the means to contact you probably would be."

"And just what was Mr. Potter doing out past curfew?" Professor Snape's voice was dangerous.

"Looking for me." Hermione lied through her teeth.

"And what were _you_ doing out past curfew?"

"My prefect rounds with Hannah." She was willing to bet the Hufflepuff prefect and DA member would back her up without question if asked. The DA had become incredibly close and loyal to each other this year, united in a cause right under Umbridge's nose, and Hufflepuffs were sorted based on a surplus of the quality.

"What, I wonder, did Mr. Potter find so important that it couldn't wait until your rounds were completed?"

"Professor, I'm sure we can discuss Mr. Potter's disobedience at a later time." Professor Dumbledore interrupted again, his tone mild. "A far more pressing question is whether or not you, Miss Granger, are willing to help us in this current...situation. In the coming school year it would be beneficial if Severus were accepted without question into the right circles, wouldn't you agree?" Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and Hermione knew he expected an immediate affirmative. However, was it worth trying if the young man in question was as uncooperative or as much of a git as in his later years? Attempting to integrate a Slytherin who was also clearly a Snape into Harry's close group was going to be difficult at best. She wasn't exactly a popular girl in general, either.

She leveled her stare back at the young man, who was watching her silently. "If _Severus,"_ she stressed the name, "wishes my help, then I shall do my best. Not for any other reason, sir. I'll not try to help or force a friendship if they're both unwilling."

"Just what do you think you can help me with, anyway?" He was genuinely curious.

"For one thing, I've got the best marks in the school; you could do far worse for a study partner." She shrugged offhandedly.

Professor Snape snorted.

Inspiration struck as she remembered Dumbledore's Army and she added, "Also, I have a...unique relationship with several prominent students spanning three of the houses. If I say you're okay, there are only a handful of people outside of Slytherin House who will question it, and the most socially powerful one of them is used to listening to me and assuming I'm right anyway, even if I'm not. With a couple of notable exceptions, I'm fairly well-liked among the professors, as well." She carefully did not look at the most notable of exceptions, sneering in the corner. "And I'm a prefect." She added as an after-thought, and shrugged again. 

"She is not so very different from Lily Evans, of your school years, wouldn't you say, Professor Snape?" Dumbledore inquired genially.

The Potions master expression became positively livid, his face losing what little colour he usually possessed. 

Hermione glanced between the two men, and for no reason she could really explain, felt compelled to add, "Except I have really horrid hair, of course."

The boy's eyes snapped up in attention. "You know Lily?" 

Hermione was bemused. "Well, I know _of_ her, of course. Harry's one of my best friends, and she's Harry's mum after all." She shrugged casually.

At this the boy's eyes bugged and to her surprise he turned and shouted at Professor Snape. _"You let Lily_ marry _the_ ARSE?!?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed! This started as a random plot bunny; I had no idea it would take off like this! The idea occurred to me several months ago while I was reading a particularly lovely time-turner fic ("The Time Turner" by ShellSnapeLuver on Granger Enchanted), and I started wondering why I hadn't yet read a fic where Severus came forward instead. I amused myself at the time with the thought that if I were ever to start writing fan-fiction (which of course would NEVER happen), I'd give it a try. :-)
> 
> Addendum: Those of you who are return readers may notice some small changes throughout the fic, especially in this and the next chapter. They were made due to some con-crit I received that I whole-heartedly agree with. Thank you for your forbearance, all.
> 
> SusanMarieR has, as well as making me fantastic banners, cover art, and icons for most of my stories, has also put together some manips for this one! They can be seen in a couple places:  
> [The Maple Bookshelf](http://themaplebookshelf.com/Literati/viewstory.php?sid=128&chapter=3)  
> [LiveJournal](http://tychesong.livejournal.com/17071.html)  
> Thank you, Susan!!


	5. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Four:** _(In which Severus is told the truth about Lily and Sirius.)_

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, 20 May 1996, 1:40 AM_

Professor Snape's expression was menacing. "Perhaps it hasn't got through to you yet, dunderhead, but I didn’t _let_ Lily do anything. I had absolutely no input on any of her decisions following...that day."

"Really, Professor, it doesn't make any sense to call _yourself_ a dunderhead," Professor Dumbledore objected benignly, and Severus shot him an irritated look.

Hermione’s lips twitched as she glanced from Severus’ to Professor Snape’s face, then twitched again. Her lips compressed as she clearly tried to keep a straight face, and failed miserably. Severus felt his own expression grow darker.

Instead of being properly intimidated and backing off, the girl broke into suppressed laughter. No different from any other Gryffindor, then. Perhaps the need to mock one Severus Snape was programmed into all of them at their sorting.

"I...huh...huhm...sorry!" Hermione tried to gasp out the apology. "You just look so perfectly alike and _synchronised._ Your expressions..." she took another gasping breath. "It's just _funny."_

"I _told_ you," Professor Snape looked at his younger self with an aggrieved expression. " _the_ most insufferable, _annoying_ creature—"

"Yes, well. Now that the subject of Lily Evans has been brought up," Dumbledore interrupted, his expression serious, and twinkle-free, "there is something you should know about the matter." He directed the comment at Severus, an edge of pity in his expression. Severus _hated_ pity. More than he hated mockery or cruelty. Hermione abruptly cut off her giggling, her expression an odd mix of curious and stricken.

Professor Snape abortively shook his head. "Headmaster,"

"Professor." Dumbledore levelled the Professor with a hard look. "Would you rather he heard it from somebody else?"

"Heard what?" Severus was more than a little concerned by the heaviness the conversation had turned, though he was fairly certain he was hiding it well. "It can't really be worse than Lily marrying _the Arse_ can it?"

"Severus," The headmaster said gently, "about three months after you graduated Hogwarts, in 1979, Lord Voldemort declared open war on the impure blooded. A lot of very terrible things happened, and many people were killed. Lily Evans—Potter by then—was part of the resistance movement, as was her husband and several of their friends. In 1981, a spy in the resistance's ranks turned over the Secret Keeper's pass-key to Lord Voldemort for Potter Place. That very night both James and Lily Potter were murdered by the Dark Lord. Their son, Harry, survived by the skin of his teeth, and only because of some complicated blood magic. I'm sorry, my boy."

Severus had felt his blood draining and going cold in turn as the Headmaster had spoken; by the time he had finished he felt light headed. Then enraged. He turned on himself and shouted.

 _"YOU!_ You were supposed to _protect_ her! He was going to let you! I saw it! She was supposed to be yours! _What did you do to change it?"_

"'Saw it,' Severus?" Dumbledore looked mystified as he glanced at the older Severus, slipping into calling him by his first name by long habit.

Professor Snape's face was stone. "The Mirror of Erised, sir."

"Ah, I see." The headmaster's face was contemplative, and sad. "That's why you were so certain—"

"Yes." The professor's voice was clipped.

Hermione's eyes were wide. Clearly she had been just overloaded with a surplus of unexpected information, even for her. "The mirror...Harry told me that it…" She glanced at Severus, clearly incredulous, then her gaze flew to her professor. "You fancied Harry's _mum?"_

Tears were beginning to leak down Severus' face, and he angrily swiped at his cheeks, hating them. "Will someone please explain? How did this happen!"

"The mirror doesn't tell the future." Professor Snape ground out. "It never did. It tells you what you _wish_ the future would be." His face was stone.

"But...Lily..."

"Is _dead."_ The Professor said harshly. "She was _never_ your friend again. She married Potter, had his brat, and then died for it."

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt..." Hermione's voice trailed off as both men glared at her. "I didn't mean to compare myself--"

"There _is_ no comparison. There never _could_ be." Severus lashed out scornfully, cruelly. The Professor’s mouth twisted in an odd grimace.

Hermione bit her lip.

"Anything _else_ I should know about?" Severus glared at the Professor.

"Be glad you haven't taken the Dark Mark, yet." He responded quietly. "I did, and now must play a cat and mouse game with one of the greatest legilimens of all time; secretly doing everything in my power to bring him down. I've been tortured, watched the only men who've ever supported me be tortured, and we have all kissed his hem and thanked him for it afterward."

"Rosier? Mulciber? Avery?"

"Death Eaters, all, and more than a little insane. I would not call them my friends, now."

Severus hesitated. "Giselle?" She had been so sweet. An anomaly in Slytherin House, prone to day dreams and flowery verse. More than once he had wondered why she had been sorted there.

Professor Snape's face was expressionless. "She married beneath her father's standards, was disowned, and eventually died when a spell of her own design backfired on her."

"Oh!" An expression of realisation dawned across Hermione's face.

Both Severus Snapes ignored her, focusing on each other.

"You said you are a member of Lord—'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's'—council. Is Lucius there, too?"

Professor Snape scoffed. "Indeed. Lucius is a pretty, deep-pocketed supporter that the Dark Lord likes to keep in his entourage, and has more or less bought his place at the table. He has no more influence than the rest of us, if that's what you are asking." The professor's face twisted into an ugly grimace. "It is ironic that of all his loyal Death Eaters, the five that remain his closest and most trusted are three friends from his own days at Hogwarts—Nott, Dolohov, and Rosier senior, and then his two oddities. The only woman allowed the Dark Mark, and the only half-blood."

"You say he murdered Lily." It was a statement, cold and hard.

"Yes."

"After promising to spare her, he killed her. Now you're attempting to kill _him."_

"Yes."

"Why don't you just...do it? Poison him, _Avada Kedavra,_ hell, stick a knife in him."

The headmaster answered his question instead. "It's more complicated than that, I'm afraid. He has expended a lot of effort in making himself near-invincible. I doubt any of those methods would work, and it would only compromise the Professor's delicate position."

"But you do know a way." Severus levelled the answer at the elderly wizard.

"Yes, I do believe so. It will be far from easy."

Severus nodded shortly. "I want to help."

Professor Snape's expression didn't change; he had already known the verdict. Hermione's expression, however, seemed to ease, and the Headmaster positively beamed. "Excellent! You'll start school next term, then, as planned. You'll have to think of a fitting first name for yourself."

"Fitting?" Hermione's brows furrowed, her gaze flitting from the Professor to the Headmaster and back in confusion.

"Oh, yes, of course. Naming among pure-blood families is a very serious matter, most of the prominent families have their own traditions. The Malfoys tend to choose Roman names, the Blacks are fae-blooded, and tend to choose astronomical ones. Young Narcissa is the notable exception, of course, I've always found that a bit odd, haven't you, Professor Snape? All that blond hair...yes, well."

The dark man snorted in amusement, and the headmaster continued as if he hadn't just cast doubt on the woman's parentage. "The Weasleys name their children after either kings or Arthurian characters. The Prince family," Dumbledore nodded to the Professor, "always found their names among characteristics they admired. For instance, Severity. His mother was Eileen for her mother's side, the Macnairs, who stick to traditional Scottish and Irish names, but her middle name, as I recall correctly, was Honour." He looked to Severus for confirmation, who nodded.

"Severus would best be served by a Prince name, I think, since he generally prefers to capitalise on that connection. Something to think about in the next week." Professor Dumbledore switched topics abruptly, his easy manner suddenly disappearing under a very grave expression. "Miss Granger, you mentioned that Harry has been receiving dreams about the Department of Mysteries?"

His older self shot the headmaster a look that Severus couldn’t decipher.

"Yes sir." Hermione outlined what sounded like a fairly mundane dream about a doorway at the end of a hall to the Headmaster; it didn't sound particularly ominous, but the Headmaster treated it as if it were an incredibly serious matter, questioning the girl about minutiae.

She finished in a small voice. "Sir, do you think you will be returning to the school, soon? I only ask because _that woman_ is torturing students. She's been making Harry write lines with a Blood Quill all year, and several of the DA members that she caught when you left. She's authorised Filch to use corporal, as well. Sir, it's getting _bad."_

Severus had shot back to paying attention when she had mentioned a Blood Quill. Those were typically considered Dark objects, not sanctioned by the Ministry. Of course, not all blood-oaths or blood-magic was dark, but still, if a teacher at _Hogwarts_ was using one on children then the world he had entered was clearly a very different one than he had left.

The Headmaster shot Professor Snape a look that clearly said, _Did you know about that?_

The Professor shook his head minutely, but added "She did authorise corporal, and has been demanding Veritaserum from me for student interrogations. I was not aware of the Blood Quill."

The Headmaster looked slightly shaken for a moment before realising two of his students were still in front of him. He recovered his composure quickly, and turned back to Hermione. "Soon, I believe, Miss Granger. Very soon now, I think. I would not abandon my charges, I promise."

The girl looked visibly relieved. "Thank you, sir. That's good." The girl shot a sideways glance at Severus, and tentatively continued, "Sir, you mentioned that he was going to be staying here for the next week or so, and through the summer?"

The Headmaster inclined his head.

"I really don't know that that's prudent, sir, considering..."

The Headmaster seemed to know what she was referring to. "Quite right, Miss Granger, but they will just have to deal with it, and be adult about the situation."

Hermione looked doubtful, but all she said was, "Yes, sir. Does he know yet? Where is he?"

"Out taking in some air with Witherwings." Dumbledore’s mouth firmed minutely; Severus could see the faint sign of displeasure. "Against my better judgment."

Neither had yet mentioned the mysterious other person by name yet, and Severus was about ready to hex one of them any minute if _someone_ didn't fill him in. His older self seemed to understand and explained to him softly.

"This safe house...it is ancient town home of the Black family."

Severus felt a sound that sounded remarkably like a menacing growl rise in his throat. "You mean the _other_ Arse."

Professor Snape nodded once, shortly. "Just so."

Severus shook his head. _"No._ No, I won't do it! I don't care if I have to sleep on the street. I am _not_ going to sleep under the same roof as that _wanker."_

"If it keeps you safe, though…" Hermione started, then bit her lip when both Severus Snapes turned their glares on her.

After he seemed assured of her silence, the Professor turned back to the Headmaster. "Sir, there are plenty of unused chambers at Hogwarts. If I might suggest…"

The Headmaster was frowning. "I do not think it’s a good idea Professor. There are many eyes at Hogwarts, and not all of them are loyal to our cause. All it would take is the wrong person or portrait to recognise him."

"It might be best if you want any sense of peace here." Professor Snape drawled. "After all, he's sixteen, and _Black_ certainly hasn't matured at all. I'm certain I was intelligent enough at sixteen to know how to keep myself hidden for a mere week and a half."

Severus felt himself nodding in agreement, desperately hoping that his older self would persuade the Headmaster to not keep him in the same house as the _Arse._

Dumbledore did not look happy. "You truly believe then, that he should not be staying here, Professor? Is it really worth the risk?"

"As much as I would love to inflict my sixteen-year-old self on that animal, if you think Black is at all a worthy addition to the cause, it is probably better if my idiot self doesn't stay here." Professor Snape answered, sneering.

"Perhaps one of the spare staff rooms?" Hermione murmured, apparently lost in thought, one finger fiddling with a frizzy curl. "I'm certain Winky would particularly benefit from the prospect of having a _secret_ and _important_ responsibility only for her."

The Headmaster was smiling broadly. "An excellent notion, Miss Granger. I confess, I would be more comfortable if Severus stayed with the Professor, however."

Severus eyed himself dubiously. "I beg your pardon, sir, but I don't think—" came tumbling out of him over the top of "I'm not sharing my quarters with a student just because it's _myself—!"_ Both cut off abruptly with identical looks of horror, and Hermione appeared to be fighting laughter again.

"Your pet fugitive is due back at any moment," Professor Snape asserted, his voice cold. "I think it is best if we left, now."

"Indeed." Dumbledore inclined his head. "You will be taking Severus by Side-Along, I imagine? Whereas Miss Granger, I believe, can get herself back admirably by herself." His eyes twinkled.

Hermione flushed and glanced at the floor. "Yes sir."

"I find it very odd that no alert has gone up concerning underage Apparition." He continued. "Usually the Trace would have alerted the Ministry by now."

To Severus' interest, the red tint on her cheeks grew brighter. He would never be interested in anyone who wasn't Lily, of course, even if she was lost to him, but the colour in her cheeks turned her relatively plain features into something almost...pretty.

She seemed to understand some unspoken message from the Headmaster and shrugged awkwardly. "There was a lot to do, sir."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Quite. Perhaps it was for the best that you gave it up after all. Off you go then."

Confused, Severus followed the furiously red-cheeked girl and his older self down the stairs to the ground floor of the house, only vaguely hearing the Professor muttering darkly under his breath about insufferable swotty Gryffindors.

In the oddly warm air outside the house, Severus looked to the girl for an explanation. "He said you were underage, but that you could Apparate, and that the Trace didn't seem to apply to you." He waited for an explanation, and got a raised brow instead.

"So he did."

"So?"

"So, what?"

"How old _are_ you?"

She looked amused. "It's complicated."

"Your birthday is complicated?" Severus gave her an unfriendly look.

She, irritatingly, lifted a shoulder in a blasé half shrug. "Well, sure. Isn't yours?"

There was, Severus mused, as the Professor roughly grabbed his arm and Apparated them back to Hogwarts, really nothing he could say to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all so much for reading, and especially to those wonderful readers who have also reviewed! I really do appreciate both the con-crit and the support and encouragement I've gotten! You have all been so amazing! Also, please say halloo to the newest person to join my Beta team): Tom Without. She is super cool, and a super amazing writer. If you're looking for a fun read, you should absolutely check her out!
> 
> I am aware of the Severus ruling family of Rome, but I liked the uniqueness of using character traits since I already had the Malfoy family following the Roman tradition.
> 
> I am not certain when the next chapter will be ready, as I've been rather frightfully busy lately and haven't started writing it (shame on me), but it will hopefully not be too much longer than seven to ten days. As always,
> 
> Keep the Candle Burning, -Tyche


	6. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 23 May, 1996, 10:35 AM_

Severus stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, bored out of his mind, watching the oddly out-of-place ceiling fan spin. His eyes picked out one of the broad blades and traced it around and around and around. It seemed to move just slightly slower as he did that, until his eyes half crossed and he lost the blade in the whirring ring. 

He had been given a few sets of clothing to wear, none of which suited him or fit just right, which honestly wasn't so bad. He was used to his clothes never looking quite right on him. If only they weren't so _cheerful._ He bloody well felt like a fool wearing this bright, cranberry red jumper. The shoes hurt his feet, too, being a half size too small, and seemed completely impervious to transfiguration. Since he hadn't been allowed to leave his rooms anyway, he had taken to spending all of his time barefoot. The castle's flagstone floor was _not_ the most comfortable thing to walk on barefoot, either. The only tolerable place to stand was the thick, shaggy rug right in front of the hearth. He supposed he should be grateful that he at least had his wand.

His elder version had at some point exchanged his wand for a new one made of birch, and when he had seen Severus' own, his brows had lifted in surprise. Clearly it had been a long time since he had seen it, and had possibly even forgotten that he had ever owned the one Severus currently held. Severus couldn't imagine ever wanting a different one, even knowing that it was fairly common for wizards and witches to change wands when they came to their full power at seventeen. He idly twirled the bloodwood wand in his fingers, watching the reddish wood flash around his fingers, appreciating the weight of it.

The suite was three rooms total, and all strangely modernised in comparison to what he thought of as typical Hogwarts. The walls and ceiling were plastered, there were no portraits or tapestries to be found, and to his astonishment, the bedroom had even boasted a ceiling fan. If he hadn't known better, Severus would have thought himself to be in another location entirely.

Besides boasting the overly soft hearth rug, his suite had only the barest amount of furniture: a bed, a dresser, a small writing desk, and one pathetic bookshelf with a grand total of nine— _nine!_ —books on it. Five of them were textbooks for Defence Against the Dark Arts from various years; they contained very little information that he didn't already know. A few updates, but nothing really interesting. Over the course of the two and a half days he'd been shut up in this awful room, he had read the other four books, only one of which he read previously. He maintained his previous opinion that he couldn't stand the collective works of Emily Dickinson. Nor was he a fan, apparently, of _The Great Gatsby. The Witches of Milan_ seemed to be about a young witch and her misadventures in shopping and fashion. Whoever had this room before him had _awful_ taste in reading material.

Honestly, the most interesting book in the bunch had actually been the romance novel—not that he would ever admit to _reading_ it, much less enjoying it to anyone else. The story itself was kind of insipid, but it had a happy ending, and a couple of _very_ interesting scenes on pages 167–169 and again on 215. He hadn't thought books _printed_ things like that. After reading the story once he had actually gone back and re-read those two particular scenes a couple of times, half smirking, half curious.

Was that _really_ how it was done? He'd had his fantasies, of course, but they had never really been that detailed before, or included much deviation beyond the basic mechanics of fucking. He had to admit, the hero of the story did try things Severus himself wouldn't have thought of; all of which the heroine seemed to _thoroughly_ enjoy. Though he did still have doubts about the part with the wall. Frankly, it sounded a little uncomfortable for both parties and definitely exhausting.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft rapping on the door, and Severus sat up immediately, staring at the offending portal suspiciously. No one was supposed to know he was here except the house-elf and his tetchy, kind-of-scary other self. The former had served him with unsettlingly creepy adoration until he'd told it bluntly to leave him alone unless called. The latter was supposed to be lording over sixth years at this moment. Neither were prone to knocking.

Gripping his wand, Severus sidled up behind the door, cautiously putting one hand on the knob, the other maintaining an offensive position. "Who is it?" He growled harshly.

"It's me," came the feminine reply. "Hermione."

He blinked in surprise. He hadn't realised that _she_ had been told where he had been put under room-arrest.

"Please let me in. I feel silly just standing the hall, talking to a door." She continued. "Plus, I've brought you some magazines and books."

Company _and_ reading material? That was far too good an offer for even he to sneer at. Severus hastily opened the door, dropping his arm so that she wouldn't see that he had been ready to hex, and stuck his wand in his back pocket.

Hermione entered, her arms loaded with several heavy tomes, and glanced about. "You're wearing red. I can't tell you what that imagery does to my head. Didn't do much with the place, did they?"

He didn't deign to acknowledge her first statement. "It used to belong to a female professor—presumably American—of Defence Against the Dark Arts who either didn't teach the highest two grades, or thought _those_ text books were worth taking with her."

"Really?" The girl's head tilted like a curious bird. "How do you know?"

Severus didn't answer, merely nodding his head toward the completely deficient bookcase. Hermione crossed over and sat on the floor to see better, dumping the books she had brought with her off to one side. Curious, she bent over the bottom shelf, then straightened with a grimace. "Emily Dickinson? You poor thing. I swear _I_ died reading 'I Watched a Fly Buzz.'" She sympathised.

Severus started, then despite himself, huffed a soft chuckle. "And you prefer?"

"Tennyson. Mmmm. And Poe."

"How did you get from Tennyson to Poe?"

"The same way, I imagine, your American professor got from Emily's _Collective Works_ to _Her Dark Wizard's Secret._ Women have such complicated hearts." She deadpanned. "How was it, by the way?"

"What?" He pretended arrogant ignorance.

Hermione smirked at him. _"Her Dark Wizard's Secret._ My roommate, Lavender, owns it, too, and it's made the rounds in the Gryffindor girls' dorm. It's been getting rave reviews from that set."

"Like I would read that!" He lied, scoffing.

She nodded, smirking a little. "Of course not. My apologies." She brightened suddenly, and then held up one of the thicker books she had brought, _Le Comte de Monte Cristo,_ shaking it in front of him enticingly. "Well, look here! I seem to have brought you Dumas. That's appropriately serious and intellectual enough a title to be worth your time, isn't it?" She dropped it gently next to him, the heavy book making a _thwack!_ as it hit the stone floor.

Severus glanced at it, and was momentarily taken aback. He lifted his brows. "This is in French."

She looked nonplussed. "Well, of course it is. It was written in French. Translations always lose something, don't you think?"

"Why would you think I can speak French?"

"Doesn't everybody?" She asked innocently, then snickered at her own lame joke. "No, I saw you reading _Les Maître des Potions Mensuel_ more than once over the summer, and during the tournament last year you chewed one of the Beauxbatons students out in his native tongue for a good ten minutes." Her brow furrowed. _"Sauf s'il s'agit d'une compétence vous avez appris plus tard dans la vie?"_

_"Non, ma grand-mère maternelle était française."_

_"La mienne aussi! Ma mère m'a appris!"_

They grinned at each other in delight that they had something in common. It felt odd to him, to feel his face twisting that way. He didn't think he had smiled broadly in a long time. Her face, in contrast, seemed very easy with the expression. She lit up when she smiled, he noticed. It turned her not-quite-attractive features into something that was, again, _almost_ pretty. It was amazing what something so simple as a facial expression could do.

Suddenly he remembered his teeth and stopped smiling abruptly. His mother hadn't been able to correct them with her wand snapped, and his parents hadn't been able to afford Muggle braces—not that he would have accepted them in any case, being a Hogwarts student. He supposed he could have asked Madam Pomfrey, but he'd always been half-ashamed to, and half too proud of the fact that he allegedly didn't care what people thought.

"What?" Hermione teased. "Did you suddenly get a headache from all that smiling?"

He shot her annoyed look, and she giggled.

"You know, I think I like you." She stated baldly. "You're not nearly as awful as you pretend, are you?"

Severus glanced down and squirmed slightly. Had anyone, ever, _in his entire life_ said that they had liked him before? Lily had a few times when they had both been small, but since then? Not even his mother, he thought. Possibly Malfoy, once, but only after Severus had said something ignorant that Lucius had taken as a dry-witted and cruel joke at the expense of a Hufflepuff. He hadn't meant to be mean at the time; he honestly hadn't known that the boy had just failed a Charms class rather spectacularly.

Severus shifted again, and changed the subject, feeling suddenly as if he'd rather not think about it. "What other books do you have for me?"

She took the cue immediately, and reached to her side to pull out the others. "The last three months' publications of both _Potions Today!_ and _The Duellist,_ the special Decade! editions of _Wizards' Life_ from 1980 and 1990, Alice Hoffman's _Practical Magic_ because I doubt you've read it and I firmly believe everyone should, and Dante's _Divine Comedy._ In English, since to my knowledge you don't speak Italian?"

Severus blinked in surprise. She had clearly put a lot of thought into her selections. What was _Practical Magic,_ a book of household spells, perhaps? He gave her a sidewise glance, staring at _Divine Comedy._ "No," he answered her question. "Why the book about hell?"

She grinned evilly. "Welcome back to Hogwarts!" She paused for effect, and smiled in satisfaction when his eyes widened slightly and his lips tipped in amusement. She tossed a stray curl over one shoulder to join the mess cascading down her back, and continued. "You can actually keep that one if you like. I want _Practical Magic_ back, though, and _Le Comte de Monte Cristo._ The periodicals belong to the library."

"Thank you." She really was the oddest creature he had ever encountered.

"You’re welcome." She beamed. "Now, come on, let's go."

"What?" Severus immediately felt guarded. "What do you mean?"

"I may be a swot, Severus Snape, but I _am_ still a Gryffindor. You didn't really think I'd come just to drop off books and leave you to your doom, did you? I'm breaking you out, at least briefly. Up you get! We're getting you outside."

Slightly dazed, he allowed the girl to pull him to his feet by his wrist. She tilted her head at him again, her chocolate brown eyes studying him, and then she did a series of small flicks at him. His skin heated with unnatural warmth, not quite hot. She stepped back, studied her work, then flicked her wand again.

"Ta-da!" She announced, tilting her chin toward the door to the loo.

Quirking a brow at her, he poked his head in, and blinked in shock. He didn't look anything like himself. His hair was shorter, and a wavy sort of brown, and his eyes were a shockingly bright blue. His nose was still his most prominent feature, but even it seemed somehow...different. He still wasn't handsome, but he wasn't ugly either. In fact, except for his eyes, he looked startlingly average. The sort of person no one would bother looking at twice.

"It's a glamour." She informed him helpfully. "I've been teaching myself how to do them the last couple of months or so. It'll wear off on its own after several hours, and it won't fool anyone touching you, but I don't expect you routinely have people touching your face."

"Where are we going?"

"Hogsmeade. We're going to find you books and clothes you actually _want_ to own."

Severus sneered. "What makes you think I'm not perfectly fine with what I'm wearing?"

She eyed him critically as she steered him toward the door. "They don't look like they fit right; they can't possibly be comfortable. I can transfigure them if you like but your jumper's _red."_

"Something wrong with red, Gryffindor?" He baited, and enjoyed it as her cheeks pinkened in response.

"You just have never seemed to enjoy anything associated with Gryffindor House before, including its colours."

"So...you know me pretty well then, I guess? The other me, I mean."

She tilted her head again in that uncertain wobble. "Not _well_ by any stretch of the imagination. He rather doesn't like me," She answered wryly. "But he _has_ been my teacher for five years, and I spent the last summer in close quarters on a fairly regular basis. I know him well enough to know he doesn't ever wear red. Really, anyone at school could tell you as much. We, however, are hopefully going to get you away from that image. We don't want anyone speculating on how alike the two of you are for not knowing each other well."

"I'm not letting you turn me into a Slug Club wannabe look-alike."

"A _what?"_ Her expression was aghast.

"My Potions professor. He had this group of pet students who all were either really talented or came from important families. They all dressed really well and hung out in a group. They used to attract all sorts of other students who _wished_ they were good enough. They would dress nicely, too, and follow them around."

Hermione was frowning. "And you weren't a member?"

"No." He said shortly.

"But...you said he was the Potions professor."

"Yes."

"But you're _brilliant_ at Potions."

"I'm not... _presentable,_ though. Not really up to snuff when you can choose someone like Lily, who's pretty good at Potions, and also, you know, pretty."

"I'm sorry you heard about her like that."

"Let's just get going, okay?" He said gruffly, trying not to let his voice crack with emotion. In an effort to change the subject, he offerred, "They're kicking me out of my House."

"Kicking you out?"

"Dumbledore says Slytherin House would be a bad influence on me in my 'mental state,' and has arbitrarily decided that the Sorting Hat put me in Ravenclaw.

"Excellent!"

He scowled. "What's so great about being forcibly torn out of your House? I happen to be proud of being a Slytherin!"

"Well, it's not like all your friends are _still_ there, and this way, we can be friends. The Slytherins would never let that happen once you were back with them."

He gave her an odd look, and asked tentatively, "You want to be my friend, then?"

Hermione gave him a puzzled smile. "What did you think this _was,_ Severus?"

And that, he supposed, was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Over time I have had the French in this chapter corrected multiple times by multiple people all claiming to be native French speakers from various places. I have decided at this point that I will no longer be going back to continuously change the French over and over as different people disagree with it. I am aware that is currently (still) not correct, but from this point forward, please accept the mistakes as the characters' in speaking a second language that neither has spoken in a long while.
> 
> Maître des Potions Mensuel – The Potion Master's Monthly
> 
> "Sauf s'il s'agit d'une compétence vous avez appris plus tard dans la vie?" – "Or is that a skill you learned later in life?"
> 
> "Non, ma grand-mère maternelle était français." – "No, my maternal grandmother was French."
> 
> "La mienne aussi! Ma mère m'a appris." – "Mine, too! My mother taught me."


	7. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Six:** _(In which Severus, Hermione, and Professor Snape have an altercation, Luna reveals herself to be more than she seems, and Hermione tries to enlist the aid of a house elf.)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 23 May 1996, 11:16 AM_

"So...why _does_ he—you know, the Professor—hate you so much? What did you do to him that was so awful?" Severus' voice floated from half a step behind her, and Hermione twisted her head around to look just in time to catch his shrewd look.

Hermione offered him a weak smile. "Well, I'm a Gryffindor for one, which is just a bad start to begin with, and I'm a bit of a swot. I was particularly vocal in my first couple of years." Hermione grimaced a bit, and then admitted reluctantly, "I still am, a bit. I think sometimes I try a little too hard for his liking.

"I'm also best friends with Harry, who he's _really_ got it in for. He looks a lot like his dad, or so I'm given to understand, and anyone who is friends with him is automatically collateral damage as far as Professor Snape is concerned."

"Best friends?" Severus' mouth set in a hard line. He stopped abruptly and crossed his arms over his chest. "So why be nice to me, then? I mean, I appreciate the books, but _why?_ It's not like you're his pet student or anything. You're not even friendly toward each other. Why should you give a damn if I like you or not?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Because _I_ don't." Professor Snape seemed to materialise out of nowhere, startling Hermione into a small shriek. He smiled at her cruelly, but addressed Severus. "Hermione Granger has a pathological need to be adored and admired by all of her professors. She knows I _never_ will. You, however..." He let his voice trail off. _"You_ she can manipulate or bribe into being her friend, and then use to whatever ends she and Potter and Weasley decide is most helpful."

The Professor sneered down at him, and slashed his wand as if batting away a fly, dispelling her glamour. "Take that off, you look _ridiculous._ Where did you two think you were going, anyway? You're not supposed to be leaving your suite." The Professor turned to her and arched a supercilious brow. "Ten points from Gryffindor for inciting disobedience."

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, and found that her voice had maddeningly deserted her. He'd been even worse to her than usual since their meeting at Grimmauld Place. She had been over confident there, cheeky to the point of reckless, and he had punished her for it in spades at every opportunity since.

He usually simply ignored her and aimed his ire at Harry, since she rarely did anything incorrect in her brewing. Lately the Professor had let her know of his displeasure with her every action. She had lost more points in his class in the last three days than she had previously lost in three months combined. Gryffindor was already dangerously low with Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad taking them right and left, it really was a wonder that there were any left.

Severus gave her a pinched look, and asked, "Is that true?"

Hermione shook her head minutely, and stammered, "No...of course not..." She stuttered to a halt. _Was_ it true? Why did she feel more compelled than usual to make sure this young, skinny boy liked her? Was it a subconscious attempt to win the Professor's good will? Hermione swallowed, and found her voice again. "I mean...maybe I _do_ want his approval—at least in the classroom, but I—"

Professor Snape quirked a brow mockingly at her, clearly entertained by her admission, and cut her off bitingly. "She's rather like the Lupin to their Potter and Black. Not especially popular or pretty, but clever and doesn't do much to stop them. They change their Pettigrew on a regular basis, depending on whom and what they need. You wouldn't want to be the next replacement. Their last one ended up dead, and their current one, Longbottom, is a disaster."

"How dare you." Hermione whispered. The comment that she wasn't especially pretty stung enough that she flinched, but it was quickly forgotten under the rest of his accusations. She felt a tear track down one cheek and angrily swiped at it. "How _dare_ you imply that Cedric's death was Harry's fault! Cedric and Harry hardly knew each other before the whole Tournament, and they helped each other out. Harry _didn't_ use him!"

"Yes, he did. He used that boy's natural inclination to be fair and honest in order to win, and in the end, that boy died, and Potter was dating his girlfriend in less than six months." The professor snarled. He addressed his younger self once more. "More recently Miss Granger and her cohorts started an illegal club that landed many of them in a _rather_ harsh detention. The youngest was only twelve. Twelve years old, and he was subjected to that corporal punishment she was just whining about." Professor Snape was looking at her now, rather than his younger self, driving the point home with narrowed eyes.

"Regardless of what the Headmaster tries to tell you, it is _not_ going to be in your best interest to be involved in another friendship with a Gryffindor Muggle-born girl, especially one who is already firmly in Potter's pocket."

Professor Snape stared haughtily down at Hermione. "You're dismissed, Miss Granger. I do believe your _favourite_ professor is still in the hospital wing while you gallivant about, breaking rules, and you have a History of Magic exam to take this afternoon. Surely one or the other can occupy your attention for the time being?"

He turned his back to her pointedly, and addressed his teenaged self. "And you. Get back into your room before someone sees you, and watch yourself and your company from here on out." The Professor held his stare for a moment, his face hard. Then just as suddenly as he appeared, he turned and swept down the hall, his boots thudding down the hall as if punctuating his earlier statements.

Severus gave her an unfriendly, suspicious look; clearly his elder version's words had hit a nerve. "So what, was I supposed to tag around after you and Potter once school starts, and accept whatever crumbs you throw me and be grateful? Because I can tell you right now that that's not going to happen! I got by perfectly fine for five bloody years without being friends with a Potter, I can get by the next two without a Potter and his friends just as well. I'm not a fucking charity case."

Still trying to stem her tears, Hermione burst, "No! I'm not trying to—"

"Then what?" He snarled. "Are you ingratiating yourself because you think _he'll_ give you better marks if he thinks you're nice to me?"

"It's not like that at all!" Hermione openly had angry tears pricking her eyes now, threatening to spill over. "I just want to help you. I've already got good marks. He has just never liked me. I _told_ you why."

Severus sneered, a mirror image of the one she had just been subjected too; she didn't find the similarities in their facial expressions funny now. "Only immature children blame their failings on their professors 'not liking them.'" He snarled.

Well that was rich, coming from Severus Snape. Hermione narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to retort back that there wasn't much of a difference blaming your failings on your professors liking someone else better, but he cut her off, jerking his chin angrily.

"What did you do, then, to make him compare you to Lupin?"

"Nothing!" Hermione ran a frustrated hand through her hair and winced as her fingers caught in the tangled curls and pulled none too gently. "Got sorted into Gryffindor and became friends with a Potter."

"Oh, nothing, is it?" Severus' dark eyes narrowed at her. "You've never hexed or hit anyone? You've never broken rules and gotten away with it just because you're a Gryffindor? Seems to me you were taking me to Hogsmeade on a Wednesday pretty casually for someone who's not used to getting away with everything."

Stricken, Hermione reached out to him, "Sev, you were game with coming a moment ago. Listen, will you? I can explain!"

 _"Don't touch me!"_ Severus shouted it at her, his voice echoing down the stone halls. He took a deep breath through gritted teeth. "And _don't_ call me Sev. My name is _Severus."_

Hermione reeled back as if struck, hurt and confusion warring inside her with anger. She drew herself up to her tallest, not quite eye-level with his chin, and did her best to stare him down as if he were the one who was smaller. The silence was deafening for several moments.

"Fine." She spat. "Fine. You want me to leave you alone? I will. I did say that I had no interest in helping someone who didn't want to be helped. You can just go back to your room with your nine—now twelve—books, and wear your red jumper, and carry on a conversation with the mirror for the next week for all I care. Just don't you dare blame your lack of friends on anyone but yourself!"

Hermione spun and stalked the opposite direction that the Professor had gone, leaving Severus to stand alone in the hallway. She swore she could actually feel her impossible hair bristling with indignation, and that just made her feel worse. She was just about to turn the corner when she paused and looked back at him, her eyes flashing.

"For the record, _Snape,_ I honestly do think you're both intelligent and interesting. It's a shame you don't think it's possible for someone else to enjoy that—and you—for what you are."

A little smug with the delivery of her exit line, Hermione stormed off down the hall, anger simmering in her stomach. She hadn't _done_ anything to him. The Professor may not like her, but she hadn't deserved to have her head bitten off by Severus! She shook her head vehemently. It was probably better this way, anyway. Harry had already been absolutely volatile all year, steadily getting worse as the Headmaster had ignored him while Umbridge had targeted him. Once it became known that Hermione was attempting friendship with the "greasy git," he would have gone ballistic. Not to mention Ron, who was always willing to be completely unreasonable when the subject had anything to do with his least enjoyable professor. With everything going on, she really didn't have the time to try to win over the angry young man and keep her current friends grounded. Honestly the whole situation was ridiculous.

Severus had the worst bloody timing in the world. The irony of that thought, considering the situation, was very nearly unbearable.

Hermione sighed, and headed back to the library. She had just left, magazines in tow, and no doubt Madam Pince would subject her to a confused look on top of the long-suffering look she always did. She did have that exam this afternoon, though, and it really wouldn't hurt to study for it more, especially since her previous plans had been curtailed.

She was nearly there when she came across Luna, picking up scattered books and papers from the floor.

"Oh. Luna." Hermione dropped to the floor to help. "What happened?"

"Oh, it was just Crabbe. He thinks it's funny to make me drop things, you know. He likes to say the Wrackspurts make him do it, because he overheard me once telling Ginny about them. He always says it like he's making fun of me, but you know," Luna tilted her head thoughtfully, "he might not be entirely wrong. He does have an incredibly hard time puzzling things out."

"Right. Wrackspurts." Hermione said tightly. "Luna, he's just a cruel bully. You shouldn't just put up with it."

Luna blinked at her, surprised. "You think I should hex him? Or hit him, like you did Malfoy a couple of years ago?"

Hermione flushed, reminded of Severus' earlier accusations. "No. No, of course not. That wasn't one of my better moments, was it? I'm just...I'm just angry right now, is all."

"Oh." Luna stood, papers in order, and Hermione stood with her. "Why are you angry? It's not still because of Marietta Edgecomb, is it? Because I think you got her back more than adequately."

Oh, Merlin, maybe she really _wasn't_ any better than the Marauders had been to Severus. She shifted her feet uneasily. "No. No, it's just...I tried to be friendly with someone, and I got yelled at for the trouble. I just feel like I wasted my time, that's all."

Luna nodded sagely. "I understand. Like the fox said. No shop with ready-made friends, and no time to understand and all that." She frowned softly. "My father says I should take up drawing."

Hermione stared, startled by the long forgotten memory Luna's words stirred. "Wait. What did you say?"

"Drawing. Or perhaps painting. My father says it—"

"No, no." Hermione cut the other girl off. "Before that, about the fox."

The dreaminess in Luna's gaze vanished for a moment, and Hermione was suddenly given a very clear glimpse of the reason Luna had been sorted into Ravenclaw. "Friends. You have to be patient, and tame them. They'll eventually come to you if done right."

Hermione stared at the other girl, wide-eyed. What was left of her anger leeched away abruptly, and she felt rather ashamed of herself. She _hadn't_ really bothered to see anything from his point of view, and honestly, his lashing out at her was understandable, given what Harry had told her of Professor Snape's Pensieve memories. "Luna...you're really...really..."

"It's okay." The girl disappeared back behind her serene, dreamy expression. "I know what people say. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Right. Right, I have to go—go to the library."

The blonde nodded. "I thought as much. Your history exam, it's very important."

Hermione nodded shakily. "Luna?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

She didn't go to the library right away. She went to the gardens instead, on the far side of the greenhouses, and selected one of the newly bloomed apricot-coloured roses. Precisely the sort of flower that most people didn't imagine when they thought of traditional roses. She knew Severus probably wouldn't understand, but Luna had made her feel rather poetic, and she could always explain if he found it odd enough to ask about. She rather thought he would.

The library was next on her list, where she selected a volume she had witnessed the Professor reading idly the previous summer at Grimmauld Place: _Sprekelia and Sangre de Drago: The Memoirs of a Potions Mistress' Travels Through South America._ The Hogwarts copy had clearly only been read once or twice before, as evidenced by its nearly pristine condition. She doubted anyone besides Madam Pince would miss it if Severus decided to keep it for a while.

The look on the librarian's face was comical when she brought it to the desk to check out. "Old periodicals and now a potions journal? Miss Granger, just _what_ are you working on now?"

Hermione felt her lips twitch a little. "One of the sections in _Potions Today!_ mentioned that this was a good read." She said innocently. "I was really glad the library had it." Madam  
Pince frowned at her, as if she could tell that something wasn't quite right about the situation, but checked out the book for her.

Hermione ducked into one of the deserted corridors of books that made up the labyrinthine stacks of the Hogwarts Library, and whispered softly, "Winky?" The little house elf _cracked_ into existence, and gave Hermione a guarded look. Clearly, she didn't trust Hermione an iota. She would have to choose her words carefully. "I know that you have a very important, _secret_ job, Winky. You're taking care of someone no one else knows about. I know because I told the Headmaster that you were the best at being loyal and keeping secrets."

The elf's eyes narrowed a little dangerously, but her thin little shoulders also straightened marginally, as if in agreement.

"I have a book, and a flower, for him. You don't have to tell me where he is, or who he is, or if he's even really real, but if he were to get them, I think it would make him less unhappy." Hermione tried to gauge Winky's expression. She seemed to be considering the offer, uncertain if accepting Hermione's gifts would be admitting to the existence of her charge or not. Suddenly inspired, Hermione put the book on the floor, and laid the rose on top.

"I'm going to just leave these here," She said seriously. "And if they were to not be here in a half hour or so, then I would have to assume that you or another house-elf just put them away, so that they weren't out of place, right?"

Hermione stood again, and backed away a couple of steps. The elf contemplated the small offering on the floor, and then said slowly, "I is a good house-elf, Miss Hermione."

Hermione nodded, perhaps a touch too vigorously. "I know, Winky." She turned then, decisively, and made her way to her usual study table, at the far end of the library.

She did have a History of Magic exam later in the afternoon, after all, and despite Luna's teasing; it really _was_ a matter of great consequence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Finally, right? Not nearly as humorous a chapter, I know, but it was due.
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience waiting for this chapter! It has been a very difficult few weeks for me, and I'm afraid my writing got put on the back burner while I grappled with some personal problems and a mild case of writer's block. The two may or may not have been subconsciously related; all I know is that I rewrote this chapter about five or six times, and I am still not really satisfied with it.
> 
> However, the show must go on, yes? I do know that this chapter ends a little oddly (double kudos to those of you who get the reference without looking it up), but as I said, it's been an odd couple of weeks. Much obliged if you will review.
> 
> Also, I have yet to decide on a name for Severus to take publicly once he is introduced to people over the summer, and so I thought I'd give you input! If you have any ideas, I would love to hear them! The only guideline is that it needs to be a character quality (as per my previously established "Prince Tradition"). I will be dedicating the next chapter to whomever comes up with the winner. :-) Send answers by private message, review, or e-mail (both e-mails can be found on my profile). Thanks for participating!


	8. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

_Chapter Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to **immyownsuperman,** for choosing young Severus' new name for his public debut. It will be making its first appearance next chapter. Thank you!!_

* * *

**Chapter Seven:** _(In which Severus muses about women and flowers, and comes to some conclusions)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 18 June 1996, 02:01 AM_

The journal of Daniela Delgado and her exploratory hunt through South America in the name of both research and what she called "Self Actualisation" was one of the most interesting and compelling reads Severus had gotten in a long while. Originally from New Mexico, she had started in Maracaibo, Venezuela, and had apparently spent nearly seven years hiking across South America, often staying in remote villages for months at a time, studying the local flora and fauna.

Sangre de Drago, it turned out, was not _actually_ dragon blood—which was already known for its potent magical uses—but tree sap, of all things. It had been named "Dragon Blood" simply because of the way the dark red sap had looked dripping against the paler Croton tree. It had been used by Muggles for medicinal purposes for centuries.

Potions Mistress Daniela had studied it extensively, and found that as a component it had enormous possibilities in the potioning world, as well. The forward mentioned that on returning home she was continuing her research and experimentation with the resin, making it her focus now that she had attained her Potions Grand Mastery.

Since starting the journal, it was now one of Severus' burning desires to go to the two towns in Argentina and Colombia that Daniela had lived in for nearly three years and study it himself. Or possibly even try to recreate her entire journey. Rain and mud aside, it sounded spectacular!  
The _Sprekelia,_ on the other hand, seemed to be more of a metaphor for Daniela herself, rather than merely a component. It apparently wasn't even really a South American flower, but a Mexican one, as was the Potion Mistress' ancestry.

The poignant personal journey she had made simultaneously as her research trip was stirring enough that Severus felt a pang of envy. She was so…sure of herself; so aware of both her triumphs and failings, and completely comfortable with both. He consoled himself with the idea that he was perfectly fine with himself the way he was, and not _really_ in need of any "Self Actualisation," but the thought rang hollow. He knew he wasn't nearly as...peaceful as Daniela seemed to be.

He glanced at the exotic looking flower on the cover of the book that had been nicknamed "the Aztec Lily," and his heart twisted a little.

 _Lily._ She had not been exotic, or particularly vivacious, but she had never been anything less than the most stunning, dynamic sort of beauty to him. Somehow, she had been both heavenly and reachable. The loveliest girl in the entire world had chosen to be his friend, until he had irretrievably screwed it up. His gaze drifted from the brilliantly red, spiky flower on the book to the pale orange one he had carefully set in a blue plastic cup of water by the bed. It was an incongruous container, but it was the only one his suite contained.

The flower suited the girl who was no doubt behind the offering just as well as the Aztec Lily seemed to suit Potions Mistress Daniela Delgado. Hermione, like her flower, was not exotic. Just a pale normal sort of English rose that wasn't conventional or even _really_ pretty. Almost, sometimes, when she smiled, but not quite. Her hair was just a bit too wild, her build a bit too thin, her coloring just a bit too plain, her clothing a bit too drab. She was, like him, just a bit too _everything,_ it seemed.

And yet...she had tried to be friendly. He was still suspicious as to her motivations behind her interest, but even a false friend had at least alleviated the monotony for that brief half-hour. She was funny, in an odd sort of way, and she spoke _French._ It was common enough in England as far as second languages went; it wasn't as if she had suddenly spouted Farsi or Cantonese, but still. It was a connection, and it had felt good. She was clever, too, and seemingly not disgusted by or afraid of him in the least, despite being clearly intimidated by his menacing counterpart.

Thoughtfully, and not entirely realising he was doing it until it was done, he reached out a finger and stroked the edge of the oddly-coloured rose that was only barely coming into full bloom. _Why_ had she given it to him? Was it her own personal comparison, like Daniela in the book? Or was it a calculated, manipulative move to make him think that she _liked_ him, as in...well... _liked?_ If that were the case, he didn't believe it for a moment. They had only met twice, after all, and he knew exactly how offensive his appearance was. Girls just didn't _like_ blokes like him, particularly not on sight.

Perhaps it was a joke; revenge of some sort for their fight. Maybe it was her way of laughing at him. Or maybe she hoped to gain his trust, then publicly repudiate him at an inopportune time. Maybe she had told the Headmaster she couldn't stand him, and he was forcing her to be nice anyway.

Or perhaps...perhaps she, like him, just felt strangely connected by their individual...oddities. Right. He snorted softly to himself. Like _that_ was likely. The list of possibilities was longer than he was comfortable with. He preferred to know someone's motivations, especially towards him. What did he _really_ know about Hermione Granger? Putting _Sprekelia and Sangre de Drago_ aside on the small night table next to him, Severus leaned back on the bed and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, hands clasped behind his head.

She was a Gryffindor. _That_ was hardly a good sign. Like his elder self had cautioned, nothing remotely good had come out of that house, ever, as far as one Severus Snape was concerned. Apparently, in the intervening years between sixteen and thirty-six, most of which were spent at the castle, the blanket rule still held as true. If his elder self was telling the truth, she also ran about in a pack, as previous Gryffindors before her had, including a Potter.

A low grunt actually emerged at that thought. More indication that she was not someone he should be in any sort of friendly relations with. She was a Muggle-born. His brow furrowed at the thought. That was supposed to be one of the absolutes. No magical blood, no redeeming. Except, Lily was a Muggle-born. Had been. Lily _had been_ a Muggle-born.

She had been _everything._ His heart clenched again, and he actually felt his lungs compress as he momentarily lost breath on a soft groan. His eyes pricked, and he rubbed at them savagely with his sleeve cuff. Fuck, but he hated crying. It was how he got that awful nickname in the first place. The only one who'd bothered to see past it at the time had been _Lily._

_Oh, Lily!_

Perhaps being a Muggle-born could be permissible.

He sat up again, hoping to spend at least _one fucking day_ not thinking about it and dying inside. He hopped off the bed, beginning to pace the floor like the caged animal he was. Hermione Granger. Right. That's what he was supposed to be deciding.

She was either lying about her age, or she—like he—was no stranger to meddling with time. He rather thought it was the latter. The Trace hadn't alerted. She was intelligent, sarcastic, and surprisingly vulnerable looking when he had flung his angry words at her. He had never really seen a Gryffindor look vulnerable, before. Hers, however, had been palpable. Until she had suddenly decided to get angry instead. He stopped for a moment, remembering, a faint smile touching his lips. She might have been very plain looking, but her anger had been _glorious._ It had been like watching a sparrow suddenly imitate a Welsh Green and spit fire.

Her spine had stiffened and something savage had lit in her eyes. For a moment he had been certain she was going to throw a rather spectacular hex at him. His hand had tightened on his wand in anticipation of shielding himself from it, and he found himself _enjoying_ the anticipation of a magical clash with her. _These_ were grounds he was familiar with, and she was a far more interesting opponent than James-Bloody-Wanking-Potter-the-Arse.

She had surprised him, however. She had departed instead with her own cutting, haunting words. _It's a shame you don't think it's possible for someone else to enjoy that—and you—for what you are._ Could she really be telling the truth? She found him interesting? Perhaps. His situation was interesting, certainly. Of course she found him intelligent. Nearly everyone who spoke to him found that to be true. Most found it overly true. He was a bit too intense, it seemed.

Another connection they had. She had called herself a swot after all, had admitted that she thought she "tried too hard" for his elder version's tastes. Perhaps he _had_ been a bit hasty in running her off. He glanced ruefully at the nightstand that now held both rose and book. It was not like it had worked, anyway. He would be damned if he was going to go hunt her down though. It wasn't like she actually meant anything to him, and even if she had...well. He'd gone through that humiliation already once in his life, and the once had been plenty enough.

His door opened without warning, and Severus spun, wand snapping into his palm quickly, with the same manoeuvre that had startled others in the past. The Headmaster did not appear to think that there was anything out of the ordinary about his hair-trigger reflex at all.

Resentfully, Severus thought it was rather lucky for both of them that when Albus Dumbledore had decided to dispense with the formality of knocking that Severus hadn't been wanking off out of sheer boredom. It wouldn't have been the first time. For all the Headmaster knew, the only other pastime Severus had been furnished with were those awful books the room had come with.

Severus settled his face into the sneering, haughty countenance he had recently stolen from his older self. The look was alarming enough that even Severus had felt intimidated by it when the Professor had levelled it at him. Wherever the older man had originally picked it up, it was certainly a look worth cultivating. Severus hadn't really expected him to, but it felt a pity all the same.

"Severus." The old man glittered down at him. Really, there was no other word for it. His obscene _purple_ robes glittered, his eyes glittered, the little beads that had been braided obnoxiously into his beard glittered. Even his belt pouch and shoes glittered. Did he _know_ the impression he was giving?

"I trust you have been made comfortable? I understand there is little to do here; if you had stayed at Grimmauld Place there would have been more room to move about, and of course, the library at your disposal. Not to mention, your help would have been very useful there, yesterday." He paused for effect, allowing his gentle admonition to sink in.

Ah. So this was a next-time-listen-to-me-I'm-wiser-than-thou sort of visit. Severus lifted an eyebrow, a trick he had been practicing for the last year or so, and answered in the mildest voice that he could manage, "I am more than willing to trade lack of stimulation for the sake of lack of Sirius."

"I see." The old man did not seem pleased with that response. He hesitated, the pause so slight, Severus was sure he was not supposed to recognise the innate uncertainty behind it. "I would advise you to be less vocal about your hatred in current days, Severus. Sirius Black was killed last night, and his death is felt keenly by many in the resistance you have now joined." He said quietly, then added, "There was something of an incident yesterday afternoon."

Severus felt his mind blank in shock. Dead? Sirius Black was dead. A part of him was glad. The Arse deserved every shred of ill-will Severus possessed. He hadn't wished him _dead,_ though. Well, not really. He _had_ wished it, but now that it had _happened..._

Bugger. He honestly didn't know what he felt. Not as gleeful as he thought he would feel, which surprised him. He had hardly expected to dance on the bastard's grave—far too undignified—but he had certainly not thought to be quite so subdued about it. He had thought he would at the least feel smug and vindicated.

If he were honest, his most prominent emotion seemed to be shock, followed by relief. Logically, of course, he knew that in the time he had inadvertently sent himself to, there were no Marauders to torture him at school on a daily, "catch-as-catch-can" basis. With the information that both Potter and Black were officially dead, however, something undeniably tight in his chest loosened all the same.

"An incident." He responded as neutrally as he could, and was pleased to find that he sounded mostly dispassionate. Severus crossed his arms and stared back steadily at the old man. It was the closest he would allow himself to an admission of ignorance or plea for information. The Headmaster seemed to recognise both the stance and the meaning behind it, and inclined his head obligingly to the right.

"Several students were under the impression that Mr. Black was being held captive by Lord Voldemort, and took it upon themselves to liberate him."

Severus felt his mouth tighten. Bloody Gryffindors, no doubt. Potter, most likely, which meant probably the girl, too, their "Black" and the other kid the Professor had mentioned, Longbottom. Probably the progeny of—or at least related to—the Longbottom he went to school with, which was a weird thought. Severus waited patiently for the old man to meander to the point. Oddly enough for the Headmaster, he didn't have to wait long.

"The result...well, the Ministry is inclined to listen now, when we say that Lord Voldemort is in fact a very real threat, which is a step further than where we have been the majority of this year, but we did not come out unscathed. As I said, Mr. Black is no longer with us, and a few students are currently in the infirmary. You perhaps remember the young lady introduced to you the evening of your arrival, Miss Granger?"

Severus felt his chest tighten. The girl was in the _hospital?_ He didn't trust her necessarily, but he hadn't wanted her _hurt._ Severus answered the Headmaster carefully, not willing to admit to an overt emotion of any kind. "I have seen her since then, briefly, yes."

The Headmaster smiled faintly. "I'm glad you two are getting along, Severus. You're very much alike."

Severus shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, we...I wouldn't say getting along...She brought me books." he finally finished lamely.

"Ah, yes. Well, come along then, my boy."

The Headmaster smiled benignly, not acknowledging Severus' surprised blink, gesturing with airy wave toward the door.

Severus balked. "I'm not supposed to go out."

"I should think my authority would be enough to allow an excursion, don't you?"

 _Maybe._ He couldn't help but think of his forbidding elder self, descending on Hermione and him like a dark angel of student death. One couldn't say such things to the Headmaster however, no matter how insane he apparently was, so Severus just nodded warily.

As usual, Dumbledore seemed to know what he was thinking anyway. "It is several hours past curfew, Severus. There shouldn't be anyone about to see you."

Well, shite. He hadn't realised he had stayed up so late reading. In his windowless rooms, time had become nebulous to him at best. His eyes narrowed sat the old man suddenly, recalling the way he had simply walked in on him. What if he had been asleep? That had been just bloody inconsiderate. Unable to stop himself, he asked the question aloud, only to be met with a serene look in return.

"But you weren't. Now, put some shoes on."

"Where are we going?" Severus frowned in resigned loathing at the awful pinching shoes that never seemed to get better no matter how he tried to transfigure them. Fucking things were torture devices.

"The hospital wing, of course. Madam Pomfrey should be just about finished with her charges."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow, I got some amazing responses last chapter [on FFN where this was originally posted]! Thank you for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it, so much.
> 
> Thank you also to everyone who played the Severus Name Game, there were several names for my team and I to vote on, ranging from sublime to hysterically funny. It was a lot of fun for me, so thank you for the indulgence. :-) I really thought this chapter would include the scene where it's used the first time, and found that it wound up just short of it.
> 
> I will have the complete list of entries posted for those of you who want to see it. As always, happy reading, all!


	9. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
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>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Eight:** _(In which Severus sees friends old and new, experiences the other side of favouritism, and is orally tortured)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 19 June 1996, 02:12 AM_

Severus felt like an intruder. The hospital wing was dark, nearly deserted and silent, and it sent a chill skittering down his spine for no apparent reason. He shuddered violently, drawing a somewhat startled look from the Headmaster, and said defensively, "What? You've never just had that happen to you?"

Dumbledore looked vaguely amused. "Numerous times, I daresay. Sometime, you must remind me to tell you about the day I met Master Ollivander."

Severus tried to imagine an eleven-year-old Dumbledore buying his first wand, and found the feat impossible. Then he realised that Dumbledore had probably not purchased his wand from the _current_ Master Ollivander. In fact, they might have even known each other as children! The thought wreaked havoc with his world view for a moment.

He glanced up at the Headmaster. The man had always seemed unimaginably old to him. While it was true that he hadn't appeared to age at all in the last two decades, he had seemed to be well established across the line of senility even twenty years ago. The slight tilting of the old man's lips alerted Severus to the fact that the Headmaster was probably well aware of what he was thinking. Severus slammed up his Occlumency barriers again with self-conscious chagrin. He _needed_ to learn how to maintain them full time without thinking about it. It was embarrassing and disturbing to him how often both the Headmaster and the Professor casually dipped into his mind.

He realised now, that's what his elder self had done in the hallway. He had brought up good points, but Severus was fairly sure that he had been skimming the doubts off his own mind to play on. It's what he would've done, and that was proof enough, wasn't it?

"Sir, what are we doing here?" Severus asked abruptly.

The Headmaster blinked benignly. "I wanted to check in one of the patients, and I thought you could use the walk," he answered smoothly.

He was lying. Or possibly not, but that wasn't the whole reason. Severus narrowed his eyes at the man.

"Severus!" The shocked exclamation had him whirling around in surprise. Madam Pomfrey's eyes were wide, her face ashen. "What...? How...?" The healer took a deep breath. "This is extraordinary! Did you invent a de-aging potion?"

It nearly killed him to lie to this sweet, elderly woman who had been like a surrogate parent to him. She had fixed his hurts, and let him cry; she had been the only adult at Hogwarts to unwaveringly always support him, believe him when he said he hadn't started the war between himself and the Maurauders. She looked at him with wonder in her eyes now, wonder and pride. It made him ache.

"I'm sorry, Madam, I’m afraid you are mistaken. I'm told I favour my uncle a great deal—"

"Don't you dare lie to me, Severus Snape!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, her face was white, her lips tight with anger. "I have known you almost your entire life. I had you in my ward on a weekly basis for the better part of ten years, and then again this year. I am very well aware of who you are. Frankly, it hurts that you would even _think_ of lying to me."

Severus stared at her for a moment, wide eyed and feeling rather slimy. Surprisingly, he was rescued by the Headmaster.

"You must forgive the boy, Poppy. He has been told that he must not reveal his true identity to _anyone_ at all for any reason." The Headmaster turned and looked at Severus mildly. "An exception can be made, I think, for Healer Pomfrey."

Severus nodded jerkily, and the woman relaxed marginally. She surveyed him with a critical eye. "Your de-aging potion also reverts experience scars? You're missing a few."

Severus' eyes flew to hers, and shook his head quietly. "It isn't a de-aging potion."

She nodded shortly. "What then?"

He explained, and watched her eyes and mouth both get wider as he went.

"My gods." She whispered, and sat down with quite a bit less grace than he was used to seeing in her. "So you really are...you're _my_ little Severus, entirely?" She breathed. "Show me your arm."

Severus wrinkled his brow. "My arm?" Perhaps she wanted to see his broken arm scar. He shoved up the sleeve on his jumper, trying to get it high enough for her to catch sight of the scar that proved irrevocably that he was, indeed, Severus Snape.

"Not that one!" She said impatiently. "I've already said I know who you are. I am probably more familiar with the sight of your compound fracture scar than you are. Your _left_ arm, Severus."

Dumbledore seemed to be chuckling into his hideously braided and beaded beard.

Confused, Severus raised the other arm of his jumper, showing the hospital matron the almost smooth skin there. She twirled a finger, gesturing for him to flip it over, forearm up. He did so.

She sighed, her expression relaxing into one of happiness. "Oh, _Severus."_ She beamed at him, and to his shock, her eyes actually seemed to be brimming with unshed tears. "Oh, my dear, _dear_ boy!" A tear escaped, and suddenly Severus found himself caught up in a fierce hug.

He shot the Headmaster a slightly panicked look. It wasn't the hug; Madam Pomfrey had hugged him before and secretly he had loved the affection. It wasn't as if anyone was _watching_ after all. She was _weeping,_ though. As if he'd come back from the dead. Awkwardly, he patted the woman's shoulder.

The Headmaster saved him _again._ Would wonders never cease? Five years the man had never bothered stepping in, and now twice in one night?

"You do realise, Poppy, that for the sake of Severus’ safety, we _must_ behave as if he is a different person entirely. Lord Voldemort must not realise the truth, or he would be in very grave danger." He inclined his head seriously. "Both of him."

Madam Pomfrey stepped away from him and dabbed at her eyes. "It's not going to work, Professor. It simply won't. There are too many people who have known him too long. Look at him! The way he stands, the way he walks. His mannerisms and the phrases and facial expressions he uses. There is no way you are going to be able to hide this. Not here, at Hogwarts. Even if you give him different clothes and cut his hair."

There was silence for a moment. Everyone knew that what she said was true. Even the students, who didn't know him as a teenager would surely recognise how uncannily similar he was to their Potions Master.

"If I may make a suggestion?" It was said timidly from behind them, as if she were certain her input would be entirely unwelcome to the conversation. Severus closed his eyes, resigned. It seemed that even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to really escape the insane Gryffindor.

"Headmaster!" Madam Pomfrey said sharply, as they all turned as one to the bed that the girl now sat up in, propped on what appeared to be a small mountain of pillows.

"It's alright, Poppy." Dumbledore said gently. "Miss Granger has already been made aware of the situation. She has not heard anything new tonight that she shouldn't have."

 _That she shouldn't have._ The statement set alarm bells off in his head immediately. Every Slytherin knew that that was the phrase you tacked onto a sentence when you were lying, but calling it the truth based on opinion. Which meant the girl had heard something she hadn't previously known. The Headmaster had simply arbitrarily decided that it was something she _should_ know.

His mind went over their conversation rapidly, and realised that the only thing to have learned that she hadn't already known was how closely his relationship to Madam Pomfrey resembled that of a parent and child. He wasn't embarrassed by Madam Pomfrey, the last thing from it! But he didn't particularly think that was something she should know. What was the crazy old coot _up_ to?

"His teeth, Madam Pomfrey." She swallowed. "I mean...they're very distinctive. Recognisable. Especially because he's got the small gap, and the right incisors are turned a bit from crowding. My parents are dentists, you see. I've _seen_ how much changed dentition can completely affect a person's appearance.

"Even me, for example. The difference between fourth year and now...well, people have absolutely noticed, and we only shaved off a little bit in the front. What if you were to correct his bite entirely? Maybe even put a whitening charm on them? Once you put a haircut on top of that, I doubt he would look remotely recognisable."

Severus narrowed his eyes at her, clamping his jaws shut. He might be a bit self-conscious about his smile, but she wasn't supposed to know that! "My teeth are _perfectly serviceable._ And I _don't_ need a haircut." He ground out.

Madam Pomfrey looked at him knowingly. Of course she had probably figured it out a long time ago. She had offered to straighten his teeth before, and he'd turned her down out of pride. But here, in this new life, where he wasn't already known as a greasy, crooked-toothed git...

"Severus." She said softly. "Of course your teeth are perfectly fine the way they are. Mine are crooked themselves, a bit." She smiled to prove it. "This isn't about your appearance dear, this is about _keeping you alive."_

So she'd decided to go Slytherin on him, too, had she? Give him a way to save face and pride and finally be able to smile with his lips open. It was incredibly thinly veiled, and he wanted it a little too desperately for his liking. He tried to imagine himself as a dashing, brooding hero with a perfect smile, but had a hard time envisioning it.

"Come here, dear." She said, absently, marking a quick silencing ward into the floor around them.

Helplessly, and not nearly as reluctant as he would have people believe—and knowing that they didn't, of course—he stepped closer.

"Wait!" Hermione said from her bed, her voice ringing with sudden realisation.

It was too late. The hospital matron had already grasped his chin and said firmly, _"Emendo Morsus!"_

It _hurt._ It was like all of his teeth were being forcibly removed at once. They shifted, straightened, his jaw bone and roof of his mouth felt like they actually cracked several times. It felt like hours. It was endless agony and someone was going to die for this.

He screamed in pain, unable to contain it. A couple of his back teeth actually did work their way out of his mouth entirely, forced out of place in order to make room as his front teeth straightened and spread out into an even line. He spat the loosened teeth to the ground with a whimpering moan. Then just as suddenly, it was over. He very much wanted to crawl into a little ball of hurt and possibly expire on the floor.

Oh gods, his jaw _ached!_ He tenderly worked his mouth a little, wincing every time his teeth impacted.

Madam Pomfrey calmly handed him a pain potion, and he gulped it, glad for once that he was used to the awful taste of it. She waved her wand at him, casting what was presumably a retaining spell to keep everything from shifting back, followed by a basic quarterly anti-decay spell.

"I _cannot_ believe you just fixed his _entire_ bite without anaesthetising him first!" Hermione said, horrified. "You extracted his second bicuspids and did the equivalent of several years of orthodontia in _ten minutes_ without anaesthesia!" She was looked at Madam Pomfrey with a newly found fear.

"I gave him a pain potion after." She said defensively. "It's not like I haven't fixed a bite before. I _am_ a paediatrician, Miss Granger. Most prefer to have the whole thing over with quickly, and an anaesthetising spell or a healing sleep would not wear off for several hours." She turned to Severus again. "Now, you will be sore for several days, dear. You may want the house-elves to bring you soups and sauces. Also, I'll be giving you some pain relievers for the next week." She banished the teeth and accompanying blood off the floor where they had been spat. "Albus, we need to talk." she said, turning to the older man abruptly. _"Now."_

"Of course." The Headmaster inclined his head and spread an arm in invitation toward her office.

 _"Hmmmph."_ The hospital matron gave him a dirty look and stalked off toward the office.

For a moment Severus and Hermione just stared at each other, Hermione with something akin to worry and awe, Severus warily. He worked his jaw again and both of them winced. Hermione held out the glass of water on her bedside table.

"Here. You should rinse and spit, you've got blood on your chin."

Gingerly, he took her offering, and went to one of the wing's nearby sinks. He swished, let it dribble out since spitting would _hurt,_ and repeated the process a couple of times. After, he bared his teeth at himself in the small mirror over the sink, and stared.

And stared.

He looked...he looked...not handsome, or dashing. He was still too tall, skinny, bony, edgy, and greasy. He wouldn't ever be handsome, he suspected. Judging by the appearance of his other self, that suspicion was probably fairly accurate. Yet...he didn't look the same, either. He looked distinctly and very noticeably different with straight, even teeth. She had also fixed the chipped tooth on the upper right, he noticed. The one Black had loosened last year and taken a small gouge out of with the ring he had been wearing.

He looked...just a little less awful. Not that he cared. Not in the slightest. He turned to her abruptly. "I'm not cutting my hair. I don't care if it makes me less recognisable. I'm not doing it. People wouldn't expect me to look like him anyway, and now that this is done," he gestured to his mouth, "no one would come to that conclusion."

"I'm sure no one is going to force you to cut it." Hermione said, smiling slightly. "Have you thought of your new name, yet?"

He shrugged, a little uncomfortably. "I was thinking Vengeance."

Her eyes widened comically. _"Vengeance?!?_ That's a _horrible_ name!" She blurted, aghast. "Why not call yourself Targetus or Snarkimus Maximus if you want to be miserable?"

"It's my purpose now! And, like you can talk, _Hermione."_ He snapped at her.

"I didn't get to name myself!" She shot back.

"What would you suggest, then?"

Hermione tilted her head at him. "How about Justice?"

"I'm not a Gryffindork."

She pursed her lips at him. "Sagacis? It means clever."

"I like the idea of it...except I can just see myself getting called 'Saggy Snape.' _Not_ happening."

"Argentius? It means silvered."

"That makes me sound _old._ Not even my other self has silver, yet."

"I just thought you'd like the Slytherin House reference." She said mildly. "Callidus, than."

"I'd rather not be 'Cal' either. I'd really rather not have a name that can be shortened at all."

"Now you're just being difficult." She frowned at him.

"This is what I'm going to answer to for probably the rest of my life! I should be allowed to be difficult."

"Why? I didn't get to be difficult about Hermione."

"Well, you make up for it now."

"You arse!" Hermione chucked a pillow at him, hitting him squarely in the face.

It _hurt._ Severus let out a decidedly unmanly sounding shriek, and clutched his hands over his still sore jaw and mouth. His eyes watered, and she was instantly contrite.

"Severus! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, I forgot! Sorry!"

He glared at her. "Bitch." He accused, not putting a lot of heat behind it, for some reason, he believed she really was sorry. She looked so guilty and upset. She actually looked worried that he would leave or something. How long had it been since that had happened? If she was faking at wanting to be his friend, she was a phenomenal actress. Especially since no one faking it would probably deliberately sabotage their plan by hitting him with the pillow.

She winced. "I know, I am. I'm sorry! I honestly did forget!" She waited a moment. "You should be Atreus."

"What does that mean?"

"Fearless. Also he's a Greek mythological character. The King of Mycenae. I thought it would be especially clever because Severus is not only a characteristic, but a Roman emperor."

"I told you, I'm not—"

"—a Gryffindor, I know. But, well, you are. Fearless, I mean. And courage and being fearless aren't the same thing, really. Courage is doing it even if you're scared. Fearlessness...that's just not being scared. I could never have worked up the nerve to fix my bite without anaesthetic. Or testing a potion no one ever had before. Or pick a new name and live in a new house with classmates. Or...what the other you does. You know."

"You've thought about my name more than I have." Severus glanced at the girl wryly.

She shrugged. "I've had better access to the Latin and Greek dictionaries. We could go French, if you like."

"No, I'm not French, so it'd just look silly. Besides, my accent’s awful. So's yours."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So I'm told. It's not like I get to practice much." She steered him back on topic. "How about this? You can be Atreus Sagacis. No one would use your middle name for taunting."

"My initials would be ASS." He retorted.

"Kinda fits." She replied, and then sighed. "Atreus Callidus Snape?"

He mulled it over. Fearless and cunning. Skillful. And a king. He _did_ like the sound of that.

"Atreus Callidus." He let it roll around in his mouth a bit, then nodded. "I think...I think so."

"Damn sight better than Vengeance, anyway."

_"Hey!"_

"Well, _you're_ the one who didn't want to be made fun of."

He made a face at her.

"Severus? Time to leave and let Miss Granger get her rest. She may not look like it, but she is fairly injured right now." The Headmaster called to him softly.

"Injured, my arse." He muttered under his breath, remembering her pillow.

Severus lifted a shoulder and brow in farewell to the girl, and turned to face the two adults staring at him. Dumbledore looked as cool as ever, Madam Pomfrey still a bit shell-shocked to see him. "Professor? Do you think I might have a minute with Madam Pomfrey?" He asked slowly.

Dumbledore waved a benign hand. "Of course. Don't stay up too late. I trust you can find your own way back to your rooms?"

It was hard for Severus' jaw not to drop. The Headmaster had just given him permission to stay up as late as he liked and roam the castle! Like Severus was one of his pet students. He managed a quick, uneasy smile, and followed the hospital matron into her office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading, please review. :-)
> 
> I had atrocious teeth as a child, and was horribly self-conscious about it. Despite the discomfort, I was pleased as a house elf with ironing to do when I got my braces. I now work in a combination dental/orthodontic office. You will have to forgive me for the indulgence of fixing Severus' bite. Especially since it's for his own safety. :-D
> 
> Again, I would like to acknowledge immyownsuperman, for choosing the winning name Atreus. Several awesome names were submitted, some of them have been used (Special thanks to DMK, SusanMarieR, Kerr Avonson, and Mon Petite Princesse).


	10. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

_Chapter Dedication: You may thank the lovely **Tom Without A Turkey** for this chapter, to whom it is dedicated, and could greatly use some cheering up. You may rest assured that without her, it very likely would not have been written for at least another month or three. Loves, hun, and thanks!_

* * *

**Chapter Nine:** _(In which there are several strange conversations)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 19 June 1996, 02:36 AM_

_"Hsssssst. Hermione!"_

Hermione started, and whipped her head to the right, where the allegedly sleeping Ginny Weasley lay, not asleep in the slightest.

"Ginny!" Hermione stage whispered across the open space between their beds. "What are you doing awake?"

"Never mind that!" Came hissing back with an impatient wave. "Was that _really_ Professor _Snape?"_

"Ginny, you are _not_ supposed to know about that!"

"Oh, Holy Holyhead Harpies, it _is?_ Like, _really, really?"_ The other girl shook her head incredulously. "My brothers are going to shite kneazle kittens when they find out!"

 _"Ginny!_ You _can't_ tell anyone. He could get _killed_ if you do. We have to keep this a secret." Hermione glared sternly at the other girl. "And did you seriously just swear by a Quidditch team?"

"This is _so_ bigger than just Merlin or the Founders." Ginny waved dismissively again. "Okay, I can see not telling Ron, if for his mental health's sake alone, but do you really expect me to not tell the _twins_ that forward time travel is possible? They would _never_ forgive me."

"Not if they don't know!"

"Hermione Granger, they _always_ know, somehow."

"Not this time, they don't. Ginny, it's too important."

"You don't think people are going to figure it out on their own?"

"They better not! He's changed his appearance, his name, is switching houses, all so that he stays hidden in plain sight. Please, Ginny, you have to keep quiet about this!"

"Fine, alright, alright! But you are explaining _everything."_

"That's the thing, Gin, I don't know. I know as much as you, really. He created some sort of potion that sent a replica of himself into the future." Hermione shrugged helplessly. "I don't think _anyone_ knows more than that right now, including _him."_

"So he _says."_

"What do mean by that?"

"Well, this is him before he turned, right? Can we even trust him?"

"Dumbledore does, and so does the real Professor Snape." Hermione chose her words carefully. "Voldemort killed someone important to him, that's why he changed his mind and joined the Order. So when Professors Dumbledore and Snape told him that it had happened, he didn't even hesitate." She paused. "I think he's trustworthy."

There was a long silence. Then Ginny said, "Do you think he'd help me with my Potions homework? Professor Snape can't find anything wrong then, can he?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ginny, you're not even supposed to know he exists, yet. When you get introduced properly, then you can try to make friends. Once you find out the new student is good at Potions, _then_ you can ask. Although, I'm not sure how far that'll get you. He's not incredibly fond of Gryffindors."

"Not joining our house in the switch, then?" Ginny asked dryly.

"I honestly think he'd commit suicide first."

"Ravenclaw then. There's no way he'd pass for a Hufflepuff."

Hermione shrugged. "Yes...though I do think he has stronger loyalty instincts than you think."

"Their loyalty is all family-ish, not soldier to a captain-ish. _He_ doesn't strike me as remotely familial."

Hermione shrugged, thinking Ginny must have woken up after the scene with Madam Pomfrey. The motion caused pain to arch from her abdomen to up under her ribs, and Hermione grimaced, laying a protective hand over her side.

The door handle to Madame Pomfrey's office rattled, and like a flash, Ginny was "asleep," again. Hermione blinked in surprise at the transformation, watching as Ginny went from animated to comatose, her mouth lolling and her breath wheezing in an even not-quite-snore. She was very good. She must fake being asleep on a regular basis, Hermione realised.

Severus and Madam Pomfrey emerged from the office a moment later, the teenager's brow furrowed in a slightly disturbed expression. He started towards Hermione, only to be halted by the hospital matron. "She needs to _rest,_ Severus."

"Atreus. You should start calling me that now; get into the habit of it. I need to learn to respond to it, too."

"Fine, _Atreus._ Hermione needs to rest; you should go to bed, too."

"I only have a couple questions, I promise."

"Se— _Atreus."_ It was said warningly.

"Please? I promise it will only be a moment or so," he said earnestly.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, and waited a moment. "Two minutes." She said deliberately. "No more."

He nodded shortly, and approached Hermione's bed.

"She says you're the reason why _she's_ here." He nodded his head at the supine form of Dolores Umbridge, on the other side of Ginny's bed. "She says you lured her out into the Forbidden Forest to get abducted by centaurs."

Hermione mouthed a quick _careful_ at him, shooting her eyes deliberately toward Ginny.

Severus' eyes jumped to the "sleeping" girl minutely, and he gave a little nod to show he understood before arching his brows deliberately at her, waiting for an answer.

Hermione tilted her head back and forth—the closest she could get to shrugging without pain, and said aloud, "She just offered that up, did she?"

"I asked her directly her opinion of you. She had a great deal to say."

"You asked her about me? Why?"

"I trust her judgment."

"And what conclusion has she led you to, then?"

"I'd like to know about _that_ situation before I decide." He answered, nodding at the still form of Dolores Umbridge. "You apparently threw her to the centaurs?"

Hermione shrugged. "That wasn't the _original_ intention; I was actually taking her to a giant that I happened to know was in there. The centaurs found us first though, and she did the rest on her own, from there."

"A _giant?_ How's that _any_ better? I can't believe you were ready to just give her to a giant and get carried off by centaurs, knowing what those sort usually—"

"But they _didn't._ There's _no_ physical evidence that they did."

"That's not the point! You wouldn't have known!" Severus eyed her, clearly disturbed.

"We're at war." Hermione said, as expressionlessly as she could. "Maybe you haven't realised yet what that means; how it really is right now. People are being tortured, are dying. That woman was about to _Crucio_ Harry, and has been abusing _children_ all year. She was standing in the way of what we thought was a rescue attempt of an Order member from Death Eaters. Someone had to take her out of the way, and I wouldn't have been sad if it had been permanently."

His lips twisted sardonically. "So the ends justify the means, then?" Severus stared at her steadily.

Hermione lifted her chin, and gazed just as steadily back. "You're the Slytherin; you tell me."

They held each other's stares for a moment, and then he gave a short nod, changing the subject abruptly. "Why the flower? The book, I get," he paused, and added reluctantly, "and I really appreciate it—it was a very interesting read. But why the flower?" He gave her a slightly disgusted look. "You know I don't believe for a moment that you...are interested in me." He grimaced a little.

Hermione felt her lips quirk in embarrassment, and tipped her head to the side. "Have you ever read _Le Petit Prince,_ by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry?" When he shook his head, she continued. "My _grand-mére_ used to read it to me when I was little. I practically learned French from it like a primer. You should see if the library has it; it's a quite popular children's book in English, too."

He huffed out a breath. "What does it have to do with the flower?"

Hermione smiled at him mysteriously, and tilted her head to the side again. "I would've gotten you a fox, but I couldn't get you one on short notice."

He stared at her expectantly.

Hermione laughed. "I guess you're going to have to read it someday and find out, won't you?"

He growled under his breath. "You're really infuriating, you know that?"

Hermione smiled. "You _were_ warned. _The_ most insufferable, _annoying_ creature to _ever_ come across your path, remember?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "So what happened to you, anyway?"

"I got cursed." Hermione lifted her eyebrows in the international sign of _duh._

Severus gave an exasperated _tsk,_ and ground out, "Well, _obviously._ What _kind_ of curse?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. Dolohov was _Silencio'd_ at the time. It slashed," she carefully demonstrated the arm movement, wincing a bit as she did, "and had purple fire." As an afterthought, she added, "and it really, really hurts."

"Dolohov? Antonin Dolohov?"

Hermione wrinkled her brow at him. "Yes, why?"

Severus shrugged slightly. "I knew his daughter in school. She was nice to me, occasionally."

"Oh, yes, I forgot about that. Blonde, right? Really good at Charms and Arithmancy?"

"Yes! You knew her?"

Hermione shook her head. "Her daughter, I think, if it's the same woman. Luna's never actually told me her mum's name. I don't know much about her honestly, only that she looked a lot like Luna, was good at Charms and Arithmancy, and died when one of her spells went wrong. You'll meet Luna, I'm sure. She was with us tonight. She's a Ravenclaw, a year below us. Bit of an odd one, but still."

There was a short, slightly uncomfortable silence.

"I should go." Severus muttered.

"Will I see you tomorrow at all?" Hermione wondered.

The other teenager hunched his shoulders. "I don't know." He muttered. "Maybe." He glanced at her appraisingly once more, then whirled and exited the hospital wing. Hermione had a sudden mental image of swirling robes and cloak, and had to stifle a giggle. He'd been practicing, she thought. He wasn't nearly so awkward looking as even only a few days ago. The movement didn't look quite right without the appropriate flowing bits.

She glanced over at Ginny, who was still affecting sleep. "Ginny! You still awake?"

The other girl didn't respond, and let out another soft wheezing breath.

"Ginny, he's gone! It's okay!"

No response. Hermione blinked. Had the other girl actually fallen back asleep? Hermione waited another beat, and then snuggled back into her pillows. The day had felt _years_ long...

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 19 June 1996, 06:04 AM_

She awoke sometime later for no obvious reason; that unnamed sixth sense setting the back of her neck tingling and nervous alarms off in her head. She waited for a moment, still, and when nothing immediately happened, twisted slightly to look out the nearest of the massive, arched windows.

It took her a moment to pick out the constellations she was seeing; they had moved significantly enough that it had probably been four hours or so since Severus—Atreus—had been there. It was most likely nearly morning—the castle would probably be waking up soon for breakfast. Hermione settled back into the bed, and closed her eyes again, attempting to go back to sleep for a few more hours. She was about to give up and resign herself to the fact that she just simply wasn't sleepy at this point, when the door to the hospital wing creaked.

Hermione cracked her eyelids and peered through the blurry fringe of her lashes, as Professor Snape stomped more quietly into the room than she would have imagined possible in dragonhide boots. He was shaking slightly, she noticed, and limping a little, trying to ease the weight on his left leg.

As if on cue, Madam Pomfrey suddenly appeared from her office. There must be a connecting door into her chambers as well, Hermione noted. She had clearly been awoken, as evidenced by her night dress and old fashioned cap, her usually neatly put up hair was hanging in a long, loose braid down her back.

"Severus, you're back. The Headmaster said you might not make it until morning." She hurried over, a potion in one hand, her wand in another.

"No, I'm fine. I said _I'm fine. Stop touching me._ I was under for barely ten minutes this time. He wasn't really displeased with me. I did I was supposed to, as far as he was concerned. Lucius, though....he nearly killed Lucius tonight." The Professor sat one of the unoccupied beds with a soft grunt. "You'll want to keep an extra eye out for Draco. He has a habit of taking out his displeasure on people's family and dearest friends."

He glared moodily at the floor before glancing back up. "How are they?"

Madam Pomfrey gave him a sympathetic smile. "Mostly fine. Miss Weasley will be here another day or so. Miss Granger quite a bit longer. I'm afraid she was hit pretty thoroughly. She had a very unusual visitor earlier, however, and I think she felt better for it."

He growled. Hermione very nearly didn't catch her mouth from dropping open. Severus Snape actually _growled._ Standing, he started pacing a few short steps, stomping and muttering under his breath angrily.

Madam Pomfrey watched in amusement for a while, then said circumspectly, "You're still fighting?"

He shot her a furious look.

"You didn't know, then."

"No. No, I bloody well didn't. Or about today, either, and I bloody well should have been told. It was Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack, all over again. How am I supposed to keep everything balanced if I don't have all the information available to me?" He hissed at her.

"Be fair, Severus. You're not the only one who has to juggle a difficult balancing act. One misstep, and you might know too much for everything to fall in line correctly. Everyone in this situation is walking on very thin ice. Give it time." She soothed.

Professor Snape grunted, and Hermione fought to keep her brow from furrowing. Was the hospital matron referring to Professor Dumbledore, or another spy, perhaps?

Madam Pomfrey paused, then laid a hand on his arm. "It was good to see you that age again. You were a lot more carefree."

"I was an idiotic brat."

Madam Pomfrey laughed softly. "Severus, surely you know by now that most teenagers are. I fixed your teeth, today."

Professor Snape shot a glance at the older woman. "My teeth are perfectly serviceable."

The hospital matron actually snorted in laughter. "Your happy other-self said the same exact thing. It was purely for concealment purposes, according to them, I promise."

"Them?"

"It was Miss Granger's idea, actually."

Professor Snape was impassive for a moment, clearly thinking, then said reluctantly. "How did it look?"

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Good, Severus. Someone who doesn't know you as well wouldn't have seen it, I wager, but you were very pleased with the result. Obviously, doing anything about it now would negate the point, but when this is all over, you should consider letting me do yours."

The Professor paused so briefly it was almost an illusion, then snorted derisively in answer.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey responded mildly, "at least wait until you see it for yourself and think it over. He's apparently the original reason, after all."

Hermione could have screamed with frustration. Why weren't they talking more _clearly?_ What she wouldn't give to have some of these cryptic statements explained! Clearly there was more going on to the whole situation than met the eye, and possibly more people involved than she imagined.

"Yes." Professor Snape finally said, a little bitterly. _"He's_ the reason. I wonder now if it was ever about me?"

"Oh, Severus. Of course it was. It always has been. You're still the same person, after all, just in a different situation. You have the chance to be free, here."

"Then what _changed?_ Why bother with me at all?"

"I don't know. Perhaps that's the first question you should ask. It might clear up a lot of the problems you're having right now."

To Hermione's surprise, the Professor glanced over at her, then got up and actually walked over to her bedside. Hastily, she slid her cracked eyelids the rest of the way closed, listening to his approach, and tried to even out her breathing the way Ginny had effortlessly feigned sleep earlier. There was a pause, and she could actually feel the Professor staring down at her.

"What happened to her?" He asked. "How close was it?"

"Very close. I had to be a bit creative with this one, I haven't seen it before. She couldn't hear the incantation, but she said it manifested in the form of purple fire. It didn't leave any marks."

"Dolohov." The Professor said quietly, his voice hard. "That's one of his favorites. You'll want to check out her appendix."

"She's been complaining of pain in her ribs, and her shoulder."

"She was just in a fight with several Death Eaters. She likely has more than a little internal bruising that is unrelated. Or it could even be referred pain, but I know that hex, and you should check her appendix."

"I'll do that when she wakes up; poor thing has had a long night." They were quiet for a moment longer. "He asked her about Dolores Umbridge and the centaurs."

"And what did she say?"

"That we were at war, and she wouldn't have regretted it if the woman had been permanently removed."

To Hermione's shock, the Professor let out a low chuckle. "Good girl."

Madam Pomfrey huffed in soft laughter as well. "I thought you'd like that. Will you please let me help you? Just because you _can_ bear ten minutes of _Cruciatus_ after-shocks doesn't mean you _have_ to."

The Professor sighed. "It really isn't that bad, Poppy, really. Honestly, my trick knee is hurting more. The _Cruciatus_ always makes it act up again, and we already know there isn't really anything you can do about that.

"Go home then, and take a mild pain potion and ice it. Try to work things out, hmm?"

There was a quiet disparaging huff, then Hermione heard their footsteps receding.

Long after the Professor left and Madam Pomfrey went back to bed, Hermione lay awake, replaying the conversation in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy Summer Solstice, all!
> 
> I am very sorry for the rather awful delay of this chapter. It took me a while to write and finish because I was hung up on a plot point later in the story, and didn't think it was a good idea to continue until it was sorted. Hopefully, now that it has, Severus, Redux will swim right along and pick up more momentum.
> 
> The Little Prince is a lovely children's novella. If you have never read The Little Prince, and would like to, here is a link to a free English translation: [The Little Prince](http://srogers.com/books/little_prince/contents.asp)


	11. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Ten:** _(In which the two Severuses bond and Hermione makes a request)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 26 June 1996, 1:15 PM_

Four days after the Hogwarts Express had removed the vast majority of the castle's population, Severus entered the potions classroom with enough force that the door actually banged against the opposite wall. The sound made him jump slightly and caused the professor to look up from the table he was working at, with an annoyed expression.

 _"Must_ you behave like such an adolescent?"

Severus stared at him with amused incredulity.

"Don’t respond to that." The professor's lip curled caustically and he returned to his work, ignoring Severus once more.

Severus meandered over, interested, dropping his book bag onto a random table on the way. "What are you making? Something interesting?"

The professor gave him a harassed look and snorted softly. "Hardly. One of the anti-inflammatory potions Madam Pomfrey has Miss Granger on. Here. Make yourself useful, if you're going to be in here. And stop talking so much." He drew a mortar across the table in Severus' direction and motioned to continue grinding.

The sound of the marble scraping against the granite work table was comforting in an odd way and Severus happily took up the pestle and began to obliterate the dehydrated vampire teeth. After a moment, "You know, I've often wondered _why_ dehydrated vampire teeth were used in so many anti-inflammatories. You'd think it would be the opposite, with the anticoagulant properties. They’re too expensive for me to experiment with, though, and the potions books I’ve found don’t explain _why,_ only that they’re needed."

The Potions Master looked up at his younger self and arched an annoyed eyebrow.

Severus ducked his head. "Sorry. Of course you knew about that. So what _is_ the answer?"

The professor was quiet for a moment. Severus waited, recognizing the signs of when he was counting. He _hated_ it when people tried to talk to him while he was counting stirs. The professor got to his forty-second stir without incident and responded. "It isn't the teeth themselves; it's the reaction they have with the dragon blood."

Severus thought about it for a minute and then nodded when it suddenly became clear. "That makes sense. I knew that the blood was the reason why you have to turn the heat down, but I never thought about how it would react with the teeth. That's why you need doxy wings, too!" Severus realised, pausing for a moment.

The professor was nodding slightly.

Severus knit his brows. "There has to be a better way to bond them though. Doxy wings and dragon blood is a horribly acidic combination. If you stabilised it with an attractant instead..." Severus trailed off, muttering under his breath.

The professor actually had a small smile curling the edges of his mouth as he nodded now. Severus felt himself smile in return, realising that his older self had already worked out the same problem, and Severus was now on the correct train of thought.

"Rose petals?" He guessed.

A slight head shake.

"Ashwinder eggs, even frozen, would only make it worse," Severus thought aloud. "Too reactive. There's already dragon blood. Though I suppose," Severus continued, "if you removed the dragon blood and used the eggs to react with the teeth _and_ to stabilise the base..." He thought a moment more, staring sightlessly into his mortar where the vampire teeth were rapidly becoming a fine powder. "The potion would be more stable, but I just don't think it would _work_ as well."

His elder self pursed his lips and calmly added turmeric to his caldron, waiting.

Severus groaned suddenly, realising. "Moonstone." He shook his head. "I feel like an idiot. Bolsters the blood, bonds with the teeth. Wouldn't gum it all up the way Veela tears would."

The professor actually smiled more broadly and nodded toward a small jar to the side of his cauldron. Already knowing what he would find, Severus lifted the lid and mentally congratulated himself in satisfaction at the sight of the iridescent white dust within.

"That isn't all, of course. Otherwise it would have been done a long time ago. Moonstone stabilises nicely, and bonds well with the teeth, but not as evenly with the blood. It tends to make the potion break too early in the heat. You have to also use a bit of honey and stir a lot more often and vigorously."*

"Honey? Really? I never thought of that."

"Sweetens it, too."

"Huh. She'll be glad of that, I suppose."

His elder self snorted. "I doubt she’s known anything else. It’s standard for Hogwarts potions."

Oh. Of course. There was a slightly awkward pause, and Severus fiddled with a particularly stubborn chunk of tooth that kept escaping from his pestle.

"So she’s been whining about her potions and hospital stay, has she?" The question was rather artfully disinterested and slightly scathing. Severus _knew_ that tone. His older self was very much interested in the answer—and just as interested in keeping that interest discreet. It was something for him to think about, later. Why the professor would be interested in the thoughts and moods of a student he clearly disliked was a mystery that would certainly be worth knowing the answer to.

In the meantime however, the professor was still waiting for an answer, and Severus would rather not let on that he had recognised that there was an actual question behind the question. He wouldn’t be able to respond in kind—if he had noticed the tactic in the professor, the older man would surely recognise it in him.

Severus considered the Gryffindor girl for a moment, trying to decide how to answer. The truth was she _had_ been: she was an _awful_ patient. They had taken to playing various games in the evening, but until today she had been on bed rest and getting more unbearable to be around by the day. She had also seemed to be spending more and more time in her own head, as if working on an arithmantic equation she was unwilling to share.

Severus finally settled on answering by changing the topic slightly. "She seems to think her predicament would have been easier to fix the Muggle way. You know, cutting her open and removing the offending organ entirely instead of healing it."

The professor’s expression didn’t change, but he clearly saw right through the ploy, and responded dryly, "An hour or so operation, a week or so recovering instead of three, is that it?"

Severus shrugged.

"Except of course, the Muggle doctor wouldn't be able to use any of his fancy equipment around her," he reminded his younger self, scathingly. "The _only_ reason we were able to get our arm set was because we were too young for our magic to properly interfere with the Muggle equipment. She spends summers at home; you would think she would know better." He shook his head. There was silence for a long moment, then, "You've been spending...a great deal of time with her."

Severus looked back at him cautiously. The last thing he wanted to do was set the professor off again. They seemed to be finally getting along and he was damned scary at thirty-six. He was rather looking forward to having that sort of presence, but until he perfected it, the receiving end was less than pleasant. "She's been...decent, and I don't think she's faking it. Like Giselle, but less poetry. I think less manipulation too, but I’m not…I'm still not sure I completely trust her."

The professor snorted. "She’s a Gryffindor. That should tell you all you need to know." He suited action to his earlier words, and set the stirring rod to a brisk pace.

Severus shrugged again and gave the contents of his mortar a dubious look. "This doesn’t look like enough for the size batch you’re making." Many potions were adaptable if one knew what one was doing, but the teeth were not something that could be shorted in an anti-inflammatory.

The professor swore softly and glanced quickly toward the mortar that Severus tipped in his direction.

"I usually only need four, but the jar I ordered seems to have smaller teeth than usual. I was hoping that the usual number would be enough, but I’m not surprised it isn’t. Grab another; they’re in the back on the third shelf."

"You’ve rearranged the cupboard."

"There isn’t a professional lab, shop or apothecary in the world that stores components alphabetically. Convenience and tolerance of idiots is no reason to neglect teaching proper classification."

Severus nodded as he headed for the cupboard. He had often had the exact thought in school. It would be interesting, learning potions from himself. He would be an imminently trustworthy source to learn from. The older Severus would understood his methodology and meticulousness in a way no-one else could; his integrity to the art of it and not just slapping components together.

 _I wonder if he will be easier on me as a student or more exacting because I_ am _him?_ Severus mused as he hunted for the teeth. He had to search for a moment before he found them; even knowing proper classifications he was still used to this particular cupboard being improperly ordered.

Not to mention, it still _wasn’t_ properly ordered. It had started out that way at one point, clearly, but over the last year the students had wreaked havoc on it. Maybe he should slip in here at some point and fix it? Without even realizing he was doing it, he absently moved a jar of distilled witch hazel oil back to its proper place and slid it further back on the shelf.

He actually missed the classroom door opening and was only alerted to the fact that he and the professor had been joined by his elder’s disinterested and caustic voice.

"I doubt Madam Pomfrey would consider traipsing down the stairs and into my classroom to be ‘properly resting,’ Miss Granger."

Severus glanced at the open cupboard door between himself and the classroom with surprise. Was she looking for him? He didn’t think she would be actively seeking out the professor, after all.

"No, sir." Her voice sounded a little tired. "I’m sure you are correct, but I-I had some questions for you, if I may?"

"No."

"But, sir—"

The professor grimaced. "I am not going to tell you how to manipulate my younger self or tell you stories of my childhood or whatever it is you want, Miss Granger."

"I’m _not_ here about—!" She heaved an audible sigh and began again, the emotions in her voice clearly in tight reign. "I would like to know about some spells, sir. Please? It’s important." Her voice wavered at first, but firmed as she went on.

The only indication that the man heard her was the slightest arching of a dark brow, but Severus couldn’t help but feel that his older self was surprised by her statement. He continued to ignore her for a moment and then answered dismissively, "I am not your charms teacher, Miss Granger."

"No. You aren’t. But you were teaching Harry Occlumency, earlier this year, sir. Professor Dumbledore had you teaching Harry; not himself, and not Professor Flitwick. Which means you must be very skilled at it. I don’t believe Professor Dumbledore would leave something so important to someone less able than he is."

"As I recall, Potter failed to listen. That is how you idiots got into the mess at the Ministry. " He seemed almost angry now, dumping another measured component into his cauldron with almost violent bangs as he rapped it against the side. "I suppose you want me to teach you Occlumency now?" His scathing sneer informed her exactly how unlikely that was.

"No. Well, yes, I do. It would be a very handy skill to have, especially since you’re supposed to be so good at it, but I honestly wasn’t looking for lessons... not in that."

"Then _what is it,_ Miss Granger?" His annoyance had seeped into his voice now and the glare he gave her would have had most men cowering, Severus wagered.

Hermione stammered for a moment and then tilted her chin, stubbornly, and responded. "Memory charms, sir."

"Memory charms." His voice had gone back to unreadable.

"Yes, Professor." She took a deep breath, her curls shaking slightly. "Sir, you are the most qualified person I can think of to ask; memory charms are not like duelling or household conveniences. They are more akin to Occlumency and Legilimency than anything else."

"You believe I will teach you memory charms? Those are illegal, Miss Granger." His voice was a menacing silken whisper. "I highly suggest you leave now. You wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression."

Hermione ignored his statement and sat down at one of the tables in front of him, sighing a little. "Sir, you are aware of the dangers that my family could be unwittingly facing right now, given my…position here in the magical world. I would like to learn a memory charm to send them to a safe place. Their knowledge isn’t valuable if it isn’t there." Her expression was sad. "I would not normally push you this far, but this…it’s too important. Please, sir? I know I don’t really have any resources of use to you, but if there is something I can trade or do?"

The professor’s face twisted cynically. "Be careful what you say. That could be taken entirely inappropriately," he ground out derisively.

She looked confused for a moment, then horrified embarrassment stole over her cheeks in a dark red flush. "I didn’t mean…sir, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to offer—"

"I am aware." He cut her off, the disdain on the professor’s face more apparent than Severus thought was strictly true. _Curiouser and curiouser._ The line from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland flitted through his head and Severus found himself wondering again just _what_ the older man’s true opinion and motivation toward Hermione was.

The professor studied her for a long moment. "Here is what I will offer, Miss Granger," he said, his expression closed. "You tell me what your intentions are toward my younger self and I may answer your questions."

"My…my intentions?" She seemed confused.

"Your intentions." He made a show of peering into the marble mortar and Severus was abruptly reminded that the potion would likely be ruined without the teeth he currently held. _Shit._ The professor abruptly turned toward the storeroom, leaving Hermione gaping at the table. Once he was within, he gave his teenaged self a measured stare, and held out his palm.

Severus hunched further behind the door, completely obliterating his view of the girl. He handed the older man the jar he had collected and silently prayed, to whatever higher power there might be, that she wouldn’t confess to using him. He knew it was probably inevitable, and tried to ruthlessly squash his hopes, but all the same, he couldn’t help but clench a fistful of his robes tightly.

Hermione’s voice was angry as the man returned with his jar. "Professor, I’m _not_ an idiot. His bag’s on the table."

"You _are_ an idiot. Someone more intelligent would have pretended and said what the boy wanted to hear so that you could get your answers."

 _"You’re_ not an idiot, sir, and we’ve just discussed your proficiency in matters of the mind. Pretending any sort of ignorance around you _would be_ idiocy." She countered.

"Quite." The professor’s soft voice carried a soft edge, and the slightest hint of pleased amusement. "Atreus?"

Awkwardly, Severus emerged from the storeroom, his eyes darting between the professor and the girl. She had as good as admitted that she had an agenda. Otherwise why would she call what he "wanted to hear" a pretence? It shouldn’t have hurt. It really shouldn’t have, because he honestly did know better than to think someone would just want to be his friend. It stung a little anyway.

"Alright. Now that both of you are out in the open and none of us is trying to deceive anyone else," Hermione started, "I have been keeping company with Severus for a variety of reasons. First, because I am intrigued to know what you were like at my age." She turned her gaze to Severus and locked eyes with him.

"Second, we have intelligent and amusing conversation. It’s not always whinging or about Quidditch, or asking me for homework favours." Her eyes turned back to the professor and finished. "Lastly, we’re fighting a war and could use all the help we can get. I would rather he was on our side because he wants to be, not because he wants to be on the opposite side of Voldemort."

"What if my stipulation for teaching you how to protect your family was staying away from him?"

Well. That was certainly direct. Not that her answer would really matter. If she truly wished to be his friend there were ways, regardless of deals. Not to mention enforcement, once she had what she wanted, would draw far too much attention to him for the professor’s liking. The question itself was ridiculous.

To his surprise, she didn’t point any of this out however, and instead said, "I…I would do so." She gave Severus an apologetic look. "I like you, really, I do. But…it’s my _parents’ lives._ I would do far worse and more hurtful things to friends I’ve had longer to ensure their safety, and that of those dependent on their knowledge staying secret. I hope…I hope you understand?"

The professor snorted and lifted a brow at Severus. "See what I mean? Gryffindors are hopeless—the lot of them."

Severus tipped his head in accession, but responded, "Still, it’s the correct answer if one were to take as read."

"I can’t believe I was ever as impossibly naïve as you are." The professor shook his head, frowning.

"Correct answer?" Hermione’s voice rose slightly. "Is this really some sort of game to you both?"

"She’s terrible at chess, too. This wasn’t so bad a showing, actually." Severus goaded, ignoring her to speak directly to his older self.

The faintest hint of amusement entered the older man’s eyes again. "I know." His expression closed again, and turned back toward the girl, who was looking angrier and angrier by the second. "Miss Granger, you will come here at four o’clock each afternoon for the remainder of your stay at Hogwarts, and we will discuss the _theory_ of mental guards and charms."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: *Honey will not in any way help keep your soups and sauces from breaking. I made that up entirely. The vigorous stirring, however, will._


	12. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Dedication:** _My 200th reviewer for Severus, Redux requested only that I continue my SSHG works-in-progress. Therefore this chapter is dedicated to the fabulous **Azulkan2.**_

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:** _(In which Hermione attempts to learn Occlumency, and Severus finds more than he expected.)_

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, 22 July 1996, 12:16 PM_

"What are you doing?" Severus frowned at Hermione, bewildered. She was sitting on the floor cross-legged, facing the fireplace in Number Twelve’s library as if expecting a floo call. Except that the flames remained firmly yellow-orange, and her eyes were closed. He’d been watching her for about four minutes now as her brows knit and smoothed in turns, trying to figure out what in the world she could possibly be doing.

"Meditating." She answered.

"Meditating." He repeated doubtfully, and then sniffed heavily.

"Still have that cold? Been a while. The Professor mentioned to me that people who can Occlude are better at memory spells because they understand memories and thought patterns better. He won’t teach me Occlumency, but he told Harry last year that the first step is to clear your mind. So that’s what I’m doing." Her eyes opened and she gave him a hard stare. "It’s difficult though, with you staring at me like that."

Severus struggled to keep his face straight. "How are you supposed to Occlude someone trying to break into your mind if you can’t even keep your mind clear just because someone notices you behaving like a blockhead?"

She came perilously close to pouting then, her lips pursing prettily. Severus felt his pulse skip and had to control his shock. Her mouth. When had he started to notice her mouth? A cold frisson of dread snaked its way down his spine. It was happening again. He was starting to be far too comfortable with a girl who would never consider him that way. That would only end badly for him.

"Right then, it’s supposed to be so easy for you. You tell me how to do it."

"I…I don’t know. I just do it." Severus mumbled, sniffing again. Bloody head cold had been plaguing him for days now. "It sort of feels like I’ve got a wall of nothingness that hides my thoughts that I can slide up and down. Or maybe my thoughts sink back behind it. Or fade…I’m not really sure. I just sort of…do it. You just clear your thoughts out of the areas that people can go."

Hermione gave him a frustrated look. "How do you know where people can go? And how do you _not_ think of something? As soon as I try to stop thinking, my brain suddenly seems to be even noisier than usual."

Severus sighed. A week into summer holidays, he had been transplanted to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place as its only primary occupant. Order members breezed in and out on a regular basis, some staying for only a day or two, some as long as a week, apparently taking turns gawking and "babysitting" him. His older self had apparently been ordered by either Dumbledore or Lord Voldemort or both to take up residence at the old house on Spinners End only a few days after Hermione had finally been allowed to return to her home. For the remaining two-and-a-half months of summer, he had been stuck at the old, creepy house of his former nemesis.

Another week into his stay, Hermione had shown up again, school trunk in hand, accompanied by the professor. The older man had ostensibly picked up Hermione from her parents’ home on Dumbledore’s request, and she was to stay for the remaining couple of months before Hermione and Severus were to start their Sixth Year. The professor had told them rather curtly to stay out of trouble and had left again, barely remaining at the house longer than an hour.

When asked if her parents were bothered by the fact that she had only been home for a week between arriving late and leaving early, the girl had only stammered and looked guilty. She had finally muttered something about how they were perfectly fine with it, but her eyes wouldn’t meet his. Obviously her parents had been told something entirely different about where and with whom she was staying. She really was a rather dreadful liar.

A dreadful liar with a rather enchanting blush and really luscious lips and insane hair that really shouldn’t be attractive in the slightest, but somehow in the firelight looked…fetching. Severus shook himself. _Fetching?_ He was an idiot. An absolutely ridiculous, senseless idiot. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

"What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question! And do you need a tissue?"

Severus deliberately took another congested sounding sniff, shaking his head. There had been a question? Oh, yes. Occlumency. "I don’t know!" He growled. "I can’t explain it. Better if I show you."

A flicker of fear passed over her features. "Show me? Like…you’ll be inside my head?"

"Well, how else are you supposed to learn?"

"Well, how did you?"

"I’m a born prodigy." He teased her smugly. "Special, you know?" He ruined it by sniffing again, feeling his chest tighten a bit as he did so.

She made a face at him and then said nervously, "What if you see something I don’t want you to?"

"I won’t go very deep. Try concentrating on something you don’t mind if I see. Or think of song lyrics or something. Once you get a feel for where I am, I’ll let go."

She wavered, clearly apprehensive. "Promise?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes. Or I’ll stop where I am, anyway." He smirked at her. "We’ll go from there." She would have a harder time throwing him out once he was already in than keeping him out. Not that he really had any faith in her ability to do either at this point.

Her lips pursed again and Severus deliberately forced himself to think of something else. It would hardly do to enter her thoughts with her lips on his mind. She probably would not be able to tell, but it was always much more difficult to occlude from someone whose mind one was in. 

"Here. Look me directly in the eyes." Severus reached out and placed just the tips of his fingers at her temples. Locking eyes with hers, he let himself fall into them, behind them, into her surface thoughts. _His hands._ There were no words; just the image of his hands and a wealth of emotions and memories combining and overlapping to create the thought.

Severus nearly recoiled from her mind in shock. She was thinking about his _hands._ The texture and heat of them against her temples layered with the memory of watching them while he talked. There was an image of him brewing chased by the image of the Professor’s hands while he brewed. She found his hands fascinating. She found the way he flicked his wand delightful and the way he gestured unerringly elegant.

Surprised, Severus watched, _felt_ the images flicker about him: his hands wrapped around his wand, and the memory of them sliding up her bare waist, leaving warm trails of sensation behind them. His thumbs flicked over her nipples and caused little jolts of electricity, while his voice told her in a low, rumbling purr that he found her beautiful, sexy, perfect.

 _That_ had never happened. For a split second, Severus felt a flash of jealous anger at the thought that the professor must have touched Hermione this way. Then he realised that the hands in her thoughts _were_ his; they were younger, less calloused, indisputably _his._ The thought jolted through him like a bolt of lightning. It wasn’t a memory; it was a fantasy! Hermione Granger had _fantasised_ about his hands—about him _touching_ her like that. The realisation made him hard as a rock, and the image of her fantasy—how she imagined his hands would make her feel—flashed through _his_ mind again.

The imagery around him in her mind suddenly changed as she became aware what thoughts had risen to the surface at his touch—thoughts he had then _seen._ Horrified embarrassment coloured the mental world around him like a vivid pink/purple, and her thoughts coalesced into clear words.

 _Oh, gods! I can’t believe he saw me thinking th—!_ She abruptly cut herself off, and he felt her try to mentally jerk away from him, her eyes squeezing shut. Still surprised, he let her go, releasing his connection to her mind. They stared at each other for a moment, wide eyed.

"You—" He began.

"I never meant you to know about that!" She blurted. "I know you don’t like me like that, and gods, this is awkward. Can we just…pretend you didn’t see?" Her cheeks were flushed prettily, her eyes pleading with him. He stared at her a moment longer, trying to process what he had just seen.

She had fantasised about him, or about his hands and his voice, at least. Judging by her words, however—I know you don’t like me like that— _probably_ more. A warm, incredulous feeling stole over him; a girl liked him—or wanted him, at least. Not just any girl, but one with really luscious lips, and apparently equally luscious looking tits.

She had imagined his hands on her naked body, had touched herself and heard his voice in her ear. The thought was incredibly flattering and did nothing for the erection her slightly pornographic thoughts had established. He shifted a little, glad that he was sitting in a way that didn’t make his problem obvious.

"No," he found himself suddenly answering. "We can’t. I can’t. Did you really…I mean, do you really…?"

The pink in her cheeks deepened and her eyes averted, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. Severus found himself wanting to bite her lip, too. He mentally replayed the moment in her fantasy where his thumbs had grazed her nipples. Like her cheeks, they had been flushed with colour, he remembered. They were a bit on the smaller side, the nipples tight little buds and a dusky coral colour. He didn’t have to make up what they might look like—he had her fantasies. They were perfect little handfuls and he wanted to see them in person.

"Stop staring at my chest," she groused waspishly.

"Hermione—" He started.

"Alright, yes, I did. I had a f-fan-tasy." She stumbled over the word, and her head ducked briefly. Then her chin jerked up and she stared at him mutinously. It lit her eyes on fire and her lips were redder from her teeth. He wanted to suck on them and then on those pretty, coral tipped breasts that he now knew she had.

She wasn’t beautiful the way Lily was— _no, dumbshit, don’t think of Lily now!_ —Severus shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Classically lovely or not, Hermione _was_ pretty, and definitely hot-blooded. More than that, she wanted _him_ enough to think about it at least once. _She_ wanted _him._ It was a rather mind-altering thought. To his surprise, tears glittered in her eyes when he refocused his attention again.

"You don’t have to shake your head and look so horrified! I said I _know_ you don’t like me like that, didn’t I? You don’t have to be cruel. Just…forget about it. I’m sure you’ve had...thoughts before, about girls who didn’t want you. You don’t have to be an arse just because you caught me in mine!"

"I’m not! I mean, you’ve misunderstood," he blurted, feeling his own cheeks heat. "I’m not…I’m not horrified." Nervously, he felt his fingers pluck at the robes covering his knee, and then watched as her eyes were briefly drawn by the gesture. She realised he noticed, and blushed again, a little. The small gesture emboldened him. _She_ wanted _him._

"You...you’re not going to hold it over me are you? Tease me all the time?"

"Well…maybe a little," he smirked at her when she moaned a little, dropping her face into her hands. He lowered his voice a bit, trying to mimic the pitch she had fantasised about, and continued as casually as he could, "I suppose it rather depends on you."

She cautiously peeked up from her hands and to his gratification, her brown eyes had darkened just the slightest bit. She’d also sunk her teeth unconsciously into her lower lip again. "Me?"

Severus fidgeted, slightly, and said, "Well…yeah. Was it just…just that? I mean, were you just bored, and I was handy in your head, or was it…do you…?" Gods, he was going to die of mortification. He _wished_ he had the same sort of confidence that Lucius Malfoy had, or even Sirius Black. He doubted either of them had ever had a conversation _this_ awkward. Severus wasn’t about to let it go, though. Not now that he knew she had had thoughts like _that_ about _him._

She twisted her fingers nervously, "Oh. You mean…you mean do I fancy you?" Her eyes darkened again, this time with hurt. "What kind of girl do you think I am, Severus? You think I just think like that about… _everyone?"_

 _Shit._ He’d fucked it up. Severus backpedalled. "No…of course not. I just…"

"Do _you_ fancy _me?"_ She returned, then quickly offered, "If you don’t, that’s okay—I don’t expect you to like me just because I, you know, like you, and if you don’t—"

"So you do then. Fancy me, I mean." He interrupted her.

She flushed again. "I…I rather thought that was made more than abundantly clear."

Severus spoke, so quietly that he could barely hear himself, "So do I. Fancy you, I mean." Hermione heard him, despite how quiet he was, and he was rewarded with a dazzling smile, her brown eyes lighting up again. It prompted him further and he daringly asked, "So if I were to say that I wanted to kiss you then, you’d say…?"

She gave him a tiny smile, and answered, "Maybe you should try it, instead."

Severus drew in a shuddering breath, his heart pounding, and crept a little closer to where she was. "Even though I’ve still got this cold?"

"Severus." She spoke quite firmly. "I’m really not going to say it again. This whole thing has already been awkward and embarrassing enough already. So either put your money where your mouth is and kiss me, or we never bring it up again."

Well, that was certainly clear enough. It was now or never, and that thought was really not acceptable. He wasn’t entirely sorted out in his head yet about how he _felt_ about her, but he definitely did want to kiss her.

He shuffled closer, still on his knees, so that they were only a hairsbreadth apart. The image of her smooth skin suddenly flashed in his mind again, her small but pretty breasts, the image of his hands sliding over them both. He shivered slightly in reaction, trying to suppress a noise as he felt himself thump almost painfully in his pants. He supposed now would probably not be the best time to adjust himself, however.

Cautiously, he put his hands on her waist, and felt something inside him loosen a little in relief as her breath hitched. Suddenly feeling more confident, he slid his hands up her ribcage, the way they had in her fantasy. Her Muggle shirt was in the way, of course, but the action clearly reminded her as well; she stared at him with wide eyes, her breath coming out in small puffs of air.

"Like this, yeah?" he whispered. She didn’t answer, just stared at him, clearly anticipatory. Slowly, as if afraid she was going to suddenly shove him away, he leaned in and brushed his mouth against hers.

Her lips were soft and slightly parted and the kiss was over far too soon. He pulled back slightly, just in time to see her eyes flutter closed, and then leaned in again, closing his own eyes. His nose bumped hers and both their eyes flew open in shock. They paused a moment, and then her lips quivered in a half-smile.

He felt his cheeks heat. "Sorry," he muttered, scrunching his nose slightly. "It’s kind of big and I haven’t really done this before—"

"I like your nose."

"You _what?"_ He stared at her in bemusement, feeling his own awkwardness settle again as she giggled slightly.

"I like your nose. It’s distinguished. It suits your face." She tilted her chin up and, to his shock, pressed a small kiss to the end of his nose. Severus blinked at her, not sure how to respond. She tilted her head at him slightly, and added, "I think you should kiss me again, now."

"Bossy," he informed her, but complied, pressing his lips to hers again. She responded just as softly, as sweetly as before, her lips clinging to his, parting a little, and then back again. He tightened his hold on her, enjoying the way she felt against him. When he felt her tongue lightly lick against his lower lip, he very nearly groaned out loud.

He hadn’t believed it would be like _that book_ had described, all fire and absurd amount of "passionately"s, but he could certainly feel the potential. Remembering what it had mentioned about kissing, Severus tentatively touched his tongue to hers. The girl made a soft noise of pleased compliance and kissed him more thoroughly back, pressing herself more firmly against him, until she inevitably felt what Severus had been trying to circumspectly hide.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes wide again, and they stayed like that for a half beat, breaths mingling. "You _want_ me," she whispered. "You _really,_ actually want me. _Me."_

Severus felt his eyebrows lift. "Demonstrably," he answered, uncertain what else to say.

The girl gave a breathless sort of laugh, and then tugged his head back down to kiss him again. He was just beginning to wonder how long he’d be able to get away with snogging her, and whether or not he was allowed to kiss the spot behind her jaw and just under her ear that the book had mentioned, when the front door opened and shut with a thud.

Walburga Black’s portrait started hurling abuse at the newcomer and the two teenagers jerked apart as if burned. "Hello? Hermione? Atreus?" It was that rather depressed looking Auror, Tonks, back after being gone for nearly a week. "Where are you two?"

Hermione looked at Severus, smiling slightly, and then raised her voice, calling, "In the library!"

"Of course," the answer came back, "don’t know why I bothered asking."

"Hermione." Severus hissed it at her. Her eyes shot to him again. "This isn’t done. You and I…we’re not done."

Her smile widened. "Of course not, Atreus. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, you may have noticed, and the only way one can attain that is to _practice."_

Severus gave her an almost evil grin back. "That’s what _I’ve_ always said about Occlumency, too," he retorted. The look on her face was priceless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Man, I totally love awkward teenage crushes and puppy-love. I think it's so adorable. I remember being that age and feeling like the whole world hung on that one answer or kiss. Good to know Severus can put what he learned from "that book" too good use, eh? ;-)
> 
> Extra special thanks to my new final Nit-And-Brit Picker, Nathaniel Cardeu, who has made it possible for me to finally start posting this story once more. It was a rough road finding a good match who was both willing and had the time, and it's awesome to finally be back in the game again. :-)


	13. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**Chapter 12:** _(In which Hermione frets and then eavesdrops with Severus)_

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, 23 July 1996, 1:36 PM_

Hermione glared, unseeing, at one of the bookcases of Number Twelve’s library, a book forgotten in her lap. Starting a…whatever she was doing…with Severus was quite probably the worst decision she could possibly make, Hermione fretted. There were more than a few reasons not to and all of them were fairly good. Even setting aside the fact that it would no doubt horrify her potions professor, causing no small amount of awkwardness in class, it was still a terrible idea.

Her best friends would no doubt hate him based on his last name alone; if Ron’s behaviour toward her last boyfriend in fourth year was anything to judge by, their opinion would only go down from there. Not to mention, there was a war brewing outside. The world seemed to have gone absolutely insane in the last two-and-a-half weeks; a new Minister had been installed, shops had been destroyed and plundered, Dementor sightings were becoming commonplace and people by the dozens were turning up murdered or vanishing entirely.

No doubt this year would be the most dangerous yet for her and her friends. Death Eaters and those in their control had infiltrated Hogwarts three out of the last five years—and that wasn’t even including second year when Voldemort’s pet _basilisk_ had gotten loose, or third year when an alleged murderer had been running about the grounds unchecked. People liked to claim Hogwarts was the most secure place in England, but so far Voldemort had proven that breaching its walls was almost laughably easy.

As if all _that_ were not enough, it was undeniable that she was in a rather vulnerable emotional state right now, as well. Weren’t people always saying that the worst time to begin a relationship was when one was emotionally unstable? She was sure she had read as much somewhere.

Her three afternoon meetings with the professor concerning mental guards and enchantments had been both interesting and worrisome. If one was to hypothetically alter someone’s memory so that it might eventually be retrieved, she had been informed, there was no earthly reason why, if they were caught, those same memories would not be retrievable by Voldemort. One might as well skip the idea entirely if one was going to go into hiding either way.

On the other hand, if one were to _Obliviate_ the memories entirely, and then enchant new ones in their place, they would never be retrievable again—by anyone. She would be more or less losing her parents forever, and that was if she got it _right._ If she didn’t…the thought had made her blood run cold. She could give her parents brain damage. It would be no better than murder.

Hermione considered herself an accomplished witch, especially for her age, but having spoken to the professor about it, she _knew_ she wasn’t skilled enough to keep her parents safe. It would take years of study and mental practice that she just _didn’t_ have. The bone-crushing fear and desperation must have shown on her face, because amazingly, he’d taken pity on her.

Something had flickered briefly in his eyes—a past regret, perhaps?—and then Professor Snape had said quietly, "You will be returning home tomorrow, Miss Granger. You are well enough that it is time. I, too, am to return to my home, and Atreus to Number Twelve. In one week’s time, however, I shall come to your house, and you will tell me what you have decided." His gaze was steady, unflinching.

"I will arrange for a Portkey, to take them into hiding. Whether or not they go with their memories intact will be your choice. If you decide that they would be better off if they had no knowledge of you or the magical world, I shall do the Memory Charms myself, and you will likely never see them again."

Hermione’s lip had trembled. "May I ask sir…what…what would you do?"

He responded evenly, "I would relieve them of their memories, were it me, but I am not considered a sentimental man by most."

Hermione had left his office then in tears and had fought with herself the whole week over what to do. When he had arrived, appearing rather suddenly a week later in the middle of the night, Hermione had merely nodded, tears leaking down her face. It had been kind of him not to make her say it out loud. When he had informed her that he would be taking her to the Burrow to spend the rest of the summer, Hermione had found herself shaking her head rather viciously.

"No! Please…I don’t want them all feeling sorry for me. I hate being pitied and Molly has enough to worry about as it is. I don’t want to explain that I chose to orphan myself. Please, can we just…not tell them? I can just stay here and then someone else can take me there later in the summer for school supplies and a ride to the train platform?"

He had studied her silently for several long moments and then finally, "I’m afraid I cannot just leave you here by yourself for a month, Miss Granger. I’m sure you consider yourself to be quite grown up, but I’m rather unconvinced that we would not find you in a shambles when we tried to retrieve you for school. I do not believe, however, that there would be an objection if you stayed at Number Twelve, instead. There has been someone stationed there at all times, of late, to keep an eye on Atreus."

If she lived to be a thousand years old, no one would ever be able to convince Hermione Granger again that Professor Severus Snape was a bad man.

Which brought her back to _her_ Severus and whatever-it-was they were doing. She was feeling overly lonely and lost; needy of approval and comfort. She was a textbook case for being at a Bad Time, especially when everything else was thrown in. She couldn’t quite manage to convince herself to tell him that, though.

She really did _like_ him. He was clever, sarcastically funny, and he had the most incredible hands and voice. When he smiled, his eyes seemed to actually light up, despite being so dark it was difficult to tell where the pupils of his eyes ended and the irises began. He was graceful, too, and smelled _really_ good. Harry and Ron had always just sort of…smelled.

Hermione chewed on her lip, thinking about it. She wished she _did_ know what she and Severus were defined as. She desperately wanted to ask him, but she just as desperately didn’t want to be _that_ girl. The clingy sort that was always needy and pestering a man about how he felt. Hermione dropped her face into her arms with a groan. Gods, she was turning into the worst sort of clichéd ninny. They had only kissed twice yesterday, had hardly spoken since, and she was probably over-analysing again.

Of course, he chose that moment to suddenly reappear after abruptly leaving her to her own devices after lunch. "What’s wrong?" he asked casually, dropping into an open armchair.

"Nothing," Hermione answered, slightly sullenly. "Where have you been?"

His brows lifted in surprise and he said cautiously, as if afraid of an explosion, "My room."

Feeling her grumpy mood firmly take hold, Hermione shot him another _Look._ "Doing what?"

To her surprise, his cheeks tinted with the faintest colour. "Nothing. What do you care?"

Frustrated, Hermione burst out, "I don’t know! It seemed an appropriate question for polite conversation! What are we doing, anyway?"

Severus’ eyes widened in what appeared to be confused trepidation. She had seen that expression before. It was the exact look that Ron adopted whenever he was in trouble with his mother. _Excellent._ Hermione mentally rolled her eyes. That was so _exactly_ the feeling she wanted to generate in the boy she fancied.

"Ahhh…sitting in the library?" He finally answered, still looking a bit scared of her. Clearly he knew it wasn’t the right answer but wasn’t sure what else to say.

Hermione had to forcibly tell herself to calm down and not make it worse. She took a deep breath. "I’m sorry, I’m just…tired of being cooped up, I suppose, and—"

"Hermione? Atreus?" Tonks stuck her head into the library and nodded shortly, stepping the rest of the way in. "I should’ve known the two of you would be in here again. There is going to be an Order meeting here tonight and I am to inform you both that you are not invited. You will be staying above stairs the _entire_ time, or you will be in a lot of trouble, is that understood?"

Hermione felt herself nod obediently along with Severus. A look in his direction revealed a smooth expression, but she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He was obviously going to try to listen in, anyway. Tonks, however, seemed to be completely oblivious, and took their nodding at face value.

Not that her inattention was surprising, really. Something was clearly on her mind, of late. She had spent the majority of the last week with them and had been uncharacteristically quiet and…well… _ordinary_ the entire time. Her hair had remained a rather mousy-brown and her eyes had taken on a melancholy, haunted cast to them. Hermione had tried to ask her about it once, only to have Tonks wave her off and mention vaguely that she was "fine," and Hermione should "not worry."

Perhaps someone had gone missing, or died? Perhaps whatever had been bothering her the last week or more would be discussed tonight. Hearing that the meeting was to be unequivocally closed to them had only convinced Hermione more fully that it was one she wanted to sit in on. She just wasn’t sure how. There wasn’t really a place to hide in the kitchen—they would have to listen at the door and hope that no one would suddenly come up the stairs. What she wouldn’t _give_ for Harry’s invisibility cloak, she thought, frustrated.

After Tonks had retreated back into the room she had set herself up in lately, Hermione looked at Severus again. "We’re going to at least _try_ to find out what’s going on, right?"

He nodded, his expression determined. "Of course."

* * *

_Number 12, Grimmauld Place, 23 July 1996, 5:40 PM_

Severus and Hermione crouched underneath a table near the top of the kitchen stairs, peaking through the tablecloth at the shimmering barrier that separated them from the promised meeting of the Order.

"Damn, that’s a silencing ward. We won’t be able to listen in with that," Severus intoned quietly.

Hermione tried not to feel disappointed. "Well, I guess we should have expected as much. I mean, Dumbledore’s no fool; he had to know we’d try. What I’d like to know is what or who is so secret and dangerous that he’s taking these sorts of precautions to keep it from us?"

Severus lifted a cynical eye-brow. "You don’t believe that he might be upfront about wanting to keep the ‘children’ out of it?"

Hermione snorted. "No. I don’t. He’s been giving Harry, Ron and me rules and then leaving conveniently available ways to break them since our first year. We’ve been practically shoved into breaking them ‘accidentally-on-purpose’ more than once. If he’s honestly locking us out this time, and not just putting on a show of being a good headmaster, something serious is happening at that meeting."

Severus’ expression darkened slightly. "I knew he favoured Gryffindors when they got into trouble—that’s never been a secret, but you’re saying he actually _encourages_ you to break the rules he sets?"

"Well, not all of the rules, and never in so many words. He just has a habit of making a point to say that we are specifically _not_ to do something, but then doesn’t ward things properly to keep us out, and then makes it rather clear that he never expected us to listen in the first place. What _are_ they going to talk about, I wonder?" Hermione’s voice rose nearly out of her whisper.

"Well, looks like we don’t get to find out," Severus hissed back, "and we should probably get out of here before we get caught."

Taking a disappointed breath, Hermione nodded and started to crawl out from under the table, only to duck back behind the hanging tablecloth hurriedly as she heard the front door open. Severus let out a frustrated sigh next to her. Their escape would have to wait another few minutes, it seemed, as what had to be the last few Order members trickled in. Hermione felt herself shrink back slightly and then her mouth fell open as Professor Snape came into view.

Walking with him was a figure in lustrous, thick, midnight-blue robes with such a deeply-set cowl that the person’s features were nearly completely obscured. They moved to the side slightly, revealing an identically dressed figure behind them. Unspeakables! She recognized the dark blue robes instantly from her research on the Ministry. The book she had taken out had been incredibly unhelpful about the Department of Mysteries, but it had included a picture of the traditional concealing robes that the Unspeakables wore.

The professor had brought _Unspeakables_ to the Order meeting! Hermione clutched at Severus’ arm, her eyes wide. Perhaps they were here about what had happened in the Department of Mysteries three weeks ago? Maybe they knew more about the prophesies, or how to bring Sirius back from the odd archway? There was no doubt in Hermione’s mind that they were what Dumbledore was trying to keep her and Severus away from.

Professor Snape was speaking quietly with the one next to him, his head bent closer to the side of her cowl and his voice magically muffled. It _was_ a woman, Hermione was almost sure of it. The way she moved, the way her head tilted towards him and nodded slightly in understanding. Judging by the more purposeful stride and broader frame, the Unspeakable a few steps behind, however, was male. A few moments later, he threw the hood of his cowl back, confirming her suspicions.

He was very _pretty,_ she decided, more pretty than was really fair for a man. He had thick, curling dark hair and very straight, patrician features. His natural expression, even just standing about, seemed to be an easy, self-confident smile that made it clear that he was probably well aware of his good looks. No doubt he thought himself to be horribly charming, as well.

His partner’s hand suddenly snaked out from her robes—it was a delicate, feminine-looking hand—and gripped Professor Snape’s arm. Her head tilted towards his as she said something to him, her stance urgent.

The professor listened, a look of concentration on his face, than his gaze suddenly lifted and locked precisely on where she and Severus were hidden. There was no mistaking that he knew they were there—she could feel his gaze boring through the tablecloth at her. Now Severus was clutching her hand, too, radiating horrified tension.

For a long moment, the professor stared at their hiding place. Then, surprisingly, his head gave the barest of tilts and, with a sweeping motion, he ushered the Unspeakable on his arm down the stairs. The male Unspeakable started to follow at a lazy stroll, drawing his wand almost idly and twirling it about his fingers as if bored. He paused at the door to the stairs, waiting until he was the only one left in the room, and then flicked a knowing smirk in their direction.

Hermione’s breath caught. He hadn’t missed a thing! The professor had, for unknown reasons, decided to not punish them for trying to spy, but who knew what this man might do? The man arched a brow and continued toward the stairs. Almost idly his wand flicked towards the door frame and the silencing ward disintegrated. Humming softly, still twirling the wand through his fingers, he descended, leaving the door cracked in a clear invitation.

Her mouth still open, Hermione turned to look incredulously at Severus. He shrugged minutely, then crawled out from under the table and made for the doorway, leaving her to scurry after him to listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wonder what they will hear...? I know, I know, I'm mean and evil. You'll find out next chapter, which doesn't end on a cliffie, I swear! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing everyone! I really appreciate it so much!
> 
> PSA: I'm going to be holding off on posting the next chapter until this story all caught up on Granger Enchanted (where it's hanging out on chapter eight). So it should be showing up in about three-four weeks. Just a reminder, I always post on The Maple Bookshelf about two-three days ahead of anywhere else, then FFN, Live Journal, and Granger Enchanted get updated together. AO3 is trailing woefully behind-I tend to only update there sporadically.


	14. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:** _(In which an Order Meeting is overheard, and the plot thickens)_

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, 23 July 1996, 05:40 PM_

Severus sneezed heavily and received an exasperated look from the girl next to him. He gave her a sour expression in return. It wasn’t like he could _help_ it. They were crouched by the doors that lead down to the basement-kitchen of Grimmauld Place, focusing intently for any sounds that either of them might be able to pick up. He couldn’t help but wonder why the man had shredded the silencing ward for them. Or why his elder self hadn’t sent them away. Either it was an elaborate ruse set up to allow them to "break the rules" as Hermione had described or, for some reason, his elder self and the two new-comers had reason to go against Dumbledore’s orders.

Considering what Hermione had just said, he knew it was probably the first…and yet…something niggled the back of his mind. Absently he sniffed, thinking about it. The way she had described it, when the opportunities to break the rules had presented themselves to her and her friends before, they had been disguised as such. A door would be left unlatched, a password-ward conveniently not in place. Not this blatant permission. Even knowing it was probably a manipulation; he couldn’t help but wonder if there might be factions in the Order. There were factions under Lord Voldemort so it stood to reason.

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as Dumbledore’s voice finally broke the murmured conversations below stairs. "Well, then. Since we have all managed to finally find the _time_ to gather," Severus’ brows lifted at the faint edge in the headmaster’s voice, "I would rather like to hear an explanation for what happened at the Ministry. I’m sure you all remember our friends from the Time Division in the Department of Mysteries?"

Next to him, Hermione drew a sharp breath. When he glanced at her questioningly, she explained quietly, "Those two in the blue robes with Professor Snape are Unspeakables—from the Time Room. That’s where the Prophesies were all kept, too. Who _knows_ what they've seen, or what they might have learnt from studying time?" The thought _was_ intriguing. Giving her a short nod, he went back to listening, craning to hear.

"Surely you can understand that we’ve been a _bit_ busy this last month, Professor Dumbledore. Your students left quite a mess, especially in our division. The Kairos Hall alone lost _thousands_ of prophesies. If we hadn’t taken care to move them, we would have lost all the Time Turners, as well. The Chronos Lab and Athenaeum were practically torn apart."

That was the woman’s voice—it had to be. At least, it didn’t sound like Professor McGonagall or Tonks. He hadn’t met Mrs. Weasley yet, but she had been jabbering earlier to a hideously scarred fellow with a peg-leg on the way in, and her voice had been very distinctive. The speaker _did_ sound vaguely familiar, though, so perhaps he had met the woman somewhere before. At one of the Slytherin gatherings in the past, perhaps?

"You had ‘taken care to move’ the Time Turners? You _knew_ they were coming!" That was Lupin, his voice coming out in a harsh growl.

There was a low _thud,_ followed by a disbelieving laugh. The male Unspeakable, Severus surmised. "Of _course_ we knew. What, you think it’s _easy_ to create a three hour window of time where there is no security in the path of six children bumbling their way through the Department of Mysteries? If the Dark Lord hadn’t been using his resources to achieve the same end, I doubt we would have been able to do it, entirely."

"Have a care, boy, you sound like a Death Eater, calling him that." The gravelly voice was threatening.

"I afford respect where respect is due," the Unspeakable answered coldly.

"We lost an Order member to that fight; one that Harry Potter saw as _family._ The children were hurt, two of them nearly _killed."_ That was Mrs. Weasley. Her husband followed her outburst with his own hard, angry tones.

"There has been nearly a million galleons’ worth of damages, and for _what?_ Our adversary did not even have a hostage. We gained _nothing_ from the entire mess—that battle is a clear _loss_ —and you willingly admit that you not only did nothing to stop it, but _removed the barriers that would have kept it from happening?"_

"Your loyalties do seem remarkably suspect." The low, measured tone was the tall black man, Kingsley. "What sort of people claim to work against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and yet lead children—including the Boy Who Lived—into his traps? Not to mention you name your workplace here, even though it is forbidden, and deliberately plan a security breach in the Ministry?"

"And really, the only word we have vouching for you is _Snape’s."_ It was Lupin again, his voice heavy with meaning. Severus tensed, angry on behalf of his elder self. It wasn’t until Hermione’s hand slipped over his, uncurling his fingers to lace hers through that he realised that he had balled his hands into fists.

The woman’s voice was incredulous. "You _know_ who I am."

"No, actually, we don’t," Lupin countered. "We know who you _were._ Who knows what you’ve become?"

"Not the Dark Lord’s lackey; _never_ that." She retorted, right over the top of the man’s menacing hiss.

"How _dare_ you! Sesh has dedicated her _life_ to you—! "

"All of you, settle down." Dumbledore’s voice cut through the raised voices like a knife. "Severus, I said _sit!"_

"The children were fine. We were both there, in the shadows, making adjustments as needed." The man finally said. "We did what had to be done."

"Apparently you couldn’t be bothered to ‘make adjustments’ for Sirius, though." That voice was the Weasley couple’s eldest son, who had been quiet until now. "Or ‘make adjustments’ so that the night didn’t happen at all. I do believe that we are all still waiting for an explanation for that. Why would you encourage children into a trap like that, when we _did_ stand to gain nothing?" There were murmured agreements from several others.

It was the woman who answered. "But we didn’t gain _nothing,_ did we, Professor Dumbledore?" she said knowingly. "The Ministry now openly acknowledges the Dark Lord’s return and no longer calls Harry insane or a liar. The Order also is now the only side with access to Time Turners or Hauh Boxes. The Order is also now free of a very dangerous member."

Lupin’s voice rose in a protesting shout, but the woman’s voice kept going, cutting him firmly off. "I didn’t say that he was a _bad_ man, Remus. I said _dangerous._ Sirius Black was more than half-mad, and constantly trying to live vicariously through Potter's deeds. He’s been prodding and needling him into trying idiotic stunts for _months_ now while you lot all pretended not to care."

There was a shocked, offended silence. Severus snuffled a little, trying not to sneeze again and give them away in the quiet.

After a moment, the male Unspeakable picked up where his partner had left off, his voice more reasonable. "You must also realise the perspective that we have, and how it’s different from yours, just because of what we _do._ We see a different picture—a broader one."

Severus tilted closer to the door, listening eagerly as the Unspeakable continued, "Experiences, choices, _life_ …it shapes people, and forges them into what they need to be to survive the next encounter. Professor Dumbledore has been manipulating the life of your ‘Chosen One’ since the day his parents died. That disaster, as you call it, shaped many of the major players of this war—it wasn’t something we could just _change_ because of our allegiance."

"If Sirius Black had lived, who knows what he may have done to sabotage the future we have _seen?_ If Harry Potter hadn’t led his friends into a disastrous battle in which he lost the godfather he was trying to save, would he be as cautious as he needs to be when it counts in the future? Will he trust the friends who had his back the way he must? Who do y—"

His voice was cut off abruptly, the silence heavy. Then, calmer, he said, "Excuse me. I’m being called by someone I must answer."

A small bevy of protests rose slightly, but didn’t deter the boots that started thumping up the stairs. Severus rose quickly, Hermione’s hand still caught in his, and reeled them both backward. Even if this man had been the one to invite them, it wouldn’t do to be _caught_ listening at the door, especially if anyone was following him. They wouldn’t be fast enough to get under the table again—trying would only end up making them look ridiculous.

The door opened fully and the Unspeakable, his hood still down around his shoulders, emerged. He gave them an amused look, and shut the door firmly behind him. Not sparing them another glance, he pulled a small leather-bound journal out of one of his robe pockets. He ignored them for a few moments, making notes in it. He seemed to study his own work for a moment, then nodded sharply and re-pocketed it.

Next to him, Hermione gasped in shock and clutched his hand tighter as the man, still ignoring them, pulled a complicated looking gold pendant out from under the neck of his robes. He adjusted the freely swinging hourglass at its centre with a look of concentration on his face, and then flicked it with a practiced finger. Then he disappeared right in front of their eyes, his image fading away.

Severus, his eyes wide, swivelled his glance to Hermione. She was pale; clearly she had recognised the pendant. Severus had never seen one before in person, but he had seen many pictures in his research for his potion. If she recognised it as well, it could possibly explain why her birthday was "complicated." When had _Hermione_ had the occasion to use a Time-Turner? Her breathless confirmation of the pendant didn’t make him feel less unsettled.

"A Time-Turner. He has a _Time-Turner!_ I wonder where he’s gone, and why?" Hermione said it fast, then let out a small shriek as the front door to Grimmauld Place opened quickly, startling her. The Unspeakable strode back into the room, shutting the door behind him. His hood was now up.

"Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you." His hands lifted and threw his hood back down again, his long fingers once more shaking out his dark curls. "Had to go for a bit."

"When?" Hermione burst out, apparently unable to keep it in. "How far back did you go, and what did you do?"

The man laughed out loud and ignored her question, turning instead to Severus. "You must be Atreus Prince, Severus’ nephew," he said genially. "You can call me Damian."

Severus started. He had forgotten that as an illegitimate child his last name would be Prince, rather than Snape. His eyes narrowed then. Something about the man’s tone… he knew. He wasn’t sure how—maybe because of where he worked?—but somehow, this man knew who he really was. "Yes," Severus answered. "How do you know Professor Snape?" There was a faint challenge in his voice.

Damian’s grin widened devilishly and his eyes openly mocked Severus. "Oh, we’re old friends. I knew him in school."

Severus felt his eyes narrow further and he itched to call the man a liar. He hadn’t had any close friends like Damian seemed to be implying. Certainly he hadn’t known _this_ man. Perhaps he had gone to Hogwarts at the same time, but he hadn’t been a friend of his. Severus couldn’t call him out on it, though, not without openly giving in and letting him win the game. Hermione made a small sound and he suddenly realised he was squeezing her hand more tightly than was warranted. He grimaced slightly. He hadn’t meant to hurt her.

"You’re lying. You know what’s going on somehow. Did Professor Snape tell you?" Hermione suddenly accused. Severus fought not to roll his eyes. _So much for subtlety._ He really needed to talk to her about that before school started again. Otherwise the whole school would know as soon as anyone had a hunch in front of her.

As he had before, Damian ignored Hermione’s question, and simply studied her for a moment, smirk in place. "And you. You’re Hermione Jean Granger, Harry Potter’s best friend." He gave a small huff of laughter. "Time is funny, isn’t it, Hermione Granger?" He directed his attention back to Severus. "Yes. I _did_ actually go to school with you for a while, though you looked a bit different then. Not enough to fool _my_ memory, but of course," his eyes gleamed, "I have a bit of an advantage in that quarter."

"Time Turners can’t go back that far," Hermione said authoritatively, then hesitated as she realised who she was speaking to, "can they?"

"Can they indeed? That’s certainly a question to ponder, Miss Hermione Granger."

"Why do you keep calling me by my full name like that?" Her voice was irritated.

"It tickles my sense of humour," he replied.

"You know what I find _doesn’t_ tickle my sense of humour, even a little?" Hermione’s voice shook so slightly that he might have missed it if he hadn’t been spending so much time with her. Damian didn’t appear to miss it either and his eyes crinkled.

"Do tell, Miss Hermione Granger. What do you find so _very_ serious?"

"You call Lord Voldemort ‘the Dark Lord,’ and you got called in a way no one else can hear, you are a time traveller who writes in a leather-bound diary, then wait as if it’s responding. Since you know so much, perhaps you know why all of that might be _serious_ to me."

Damian threw his head back and laughed.

Unable to help himself, Severus sneezed, hard. Bloody head cold was driving him insane. To his surprise, Damian’s eyes flew to him, his gaze sharp. "Are you feeling a bit under the weather, Atreus?"

Annoyed, Severus answered, "It’s just a cold. We can apparently cure tuberculosis and even eradicate the black plague, but the common cold? Beyond us."

"Ah, but then what would we use to fight off the aliens when they land?" Damian asked idly, startling Severus into a short laugh. "Still. Still, that’s…interesting."

"Aliens?" Hermione’s mounting frustration and anger was clearly mounting. "Stop side-stepping me!"

Damian’s attention returned to her, his face suddenly impassive. "Tell me something, Miss Hermione Granger. Do you trust your Professor Snape?"

Severus tried not to let his own interest in the question show as he, too, glanced at the girl next to him. She looked startled, and then firmly answered, "Yes, implicitly."

"He trusts me enough to introduce me to your Order of the Phoenix, and grant me access to this safe house. So you should have nothing to fret over, then, yes?" A brow lifted.

The man had not actually answered her question at all, Severus noted. He had responded in a very Slytherin way. A sidelong glance at Hermione showed that she had either gotten better at schooling her features in the last few minutes, or she hadn’t noticed.

"Perhaps it is time for you to return to the meeting below, Vector, and stop antagonizing my nephew and his…friend." The professor’s voice quietly cut in from behind them, causing Severus to jump slightly. Hermione actually gasped and spun about to gape; a quick assessment showed that her cheeks had heated attractively again. Severus forced himself not to grin. The Unspeakable had just tricked her into stating her trust right in front of the professor. No doubt she was _very_ glad at this point that she hadn’t hesitated before answering.

The professor himself was impassive, his expression giving nothing away about how he felt about her clearly stated faith in him. A small tilt of his head towards the door had Damian smirking and sauntering to the door. The professor waited until he had disappeared down the stairs before saying softly, "While I do believe that Damian Vector is not working for the Dark Lord, and he and his partner to be valuable resources, I think it would be a good idea to avoid him in the future, if you are able. He is…fond of causing uncomfortable situations for his amusement."

Severus felt himself nod silently, when Hermione suddenly blurted out, "Sir?"

Professor Snape paused before following the Unspeakable down the stairs, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"He—Damian—the first thing he did when he got up here was use appear to communicate with a diary, and then use a Time Turner. I don’t know when he went, but…I thought you should know, sir."

Professor Snape’s brows twitched fractionally. "What Damian Vector does should not concern you, Miss Granger. Curiosity can be detrimental to more than cats."

Severus felt himself frown slightly. Despite the impression the professor was giving, he was almost certain that the man hadn’t known, and found the information interesting. His eyes sharp, he watched his elder version meticulously ward the door into silence again, and shut the door securely behind him as he descended the stairs after the Unspeakable.

Next to him, Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. "Well, that’s _that,_ I guess." Her lips pursed again and Severus had the sudden urge to try to talk her into letting him kiss her again. He could puzzle over the odd encounter later, perhaps.

Clearing his throat a bit nervously, he ventured, "There’s uh, apparently a comet visible."

The girl gave him a strange look. "Yes, Hale-Bopp. We started looking for it in Astronomy towards the end of the year."

 _Shit. Of course she’s already studied it in class._ Severus shrugged uneasily; it was too late to backpedal now. "Well, I haven’t really seen it yet and it’s bound to be brighter than a month ago, now. I just thought maybe you’d…you know, like to take a look tonight? Uh, I mean, with me? It’s supposed to clear up tonight, and the top floor has a window that lets you climb right out onto the roof, and I just thought…" His felt his cheeks burn as his voice trailed off and tried to decide if he could somehow disappear. He peaked up at her from behind his hair and, to his surprise, she was smiling so brightly it nearly split her face in two.

"You mean…like a date?"

Severus felt himself freeze instinctively. Any other girl would ridicule him for attempting to garner a date. This, however, _wasn’t_ any other girl, he reminded himself. She was smiling and she had kissed him yesterday. She confessed to _fancying_ him. He swallowed and managed to croak out, "Yeah. I mean yes. Like a date. You know, if you want."

The girl beamed at him again. "I would really like that."

Severus felt his breath leave him in an embarrassing _whoosh._ He offered her a small smile and then ruined what little remained of his dignity by sneezing heavily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am unaccountably excited to be posting this particular chapter. It has been one of my favourites to write so far, as well as one of the easiest. This was one of those that just...came out, and very little was changed from the original rough draft. A few questions were answered to the discerning eye, a lot more presented...hopefully.
> 
> I like to think that my plot is clever, but we all know that readers often tend to be more clever than their writers. X-D All I ask is that if you've caught me out to please not review about it and spoil it for everyone else! E-Mails and PMs are of course, a different story. That said, don't let that little side note keep you from commenting--I do treasure them so! Thanks for reading, and your patience as I slowly continue to update here! :-)


	15. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:** _(in which Hermione and Severus go on a date)_

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, 23 July 1996 11:33 PM_

Severus clambered out on the roof of Grimmauld Place through a dingy attic skylight, using an old, dust-cloth-covered table to bolster himself high enough. Once he was outdoors in the cooling July evening, he shuffled down the last metre of the roof until he reached the bottom wedge formed by the conjoined roofs of house number twelve and number fourteen.

Pausing for a moment, he coughed out the dust he had breathed in on the way up, and quickly covered his mouth as it triggered a true coughing fit. Snuffling a little, he made a mental note to take another decongestant potion before bed. Nothing could ruin his planned date faster than phlegm.

Bracing a knee back against the roof, he peered down through the opening, reaching an arm through for the quilt he had left with Hermione below. She passed it up, looking a bit nervous, and he smiled reassuringly.

"It’s alright, really. It’s not that difficult getting out, and we’re quite safe up here. I’ll be right back to help you out." He quickly turned and laid the blanket out as close to the centre of the roofs as he could, flapping it a few times to keep it from bunching up. The weather had held surprisingly well the last several days, and the roof was thankfully dry and devoid of any damp patches. 

Stepping back to consider his handiwork, he shook his head slightly and critically straightened the corners up each side of the wedge. Once satisfied with the quilt’s placement, he turned back to the skylight and waggled his hand, offering it to help her up.

Looking a bit nervous, Hermione clambered on top of the table, wobbling a bit as her thick hair fell into her eyes. As he had done, she used one of the roof’s support beams to steady herself until she could stand, her mouth set in a stubborn line. He found the expression ridiculously cute, but it probably wasn’t the best idea to tell her that.

The added height made her tall enough to stick her head out of the skylight, and with his help she was able to leverage herself up through onto the roof. Severus gestured toward the blanket he had laid out, and Hermione smiled as she sat, leaning against the roof of Grimmauld Place, and placing her feet flat against the opposite angle of it's neighbor. "You didn’t bring a telescope." She observed.

"No." He answered carelessly, joining her on the blanket. He tilted his head back and looked at the sky, picking out a couple of the brighter constellations idly.

"The comet is scarcely bigger than a smudgy star right now; Professor Sinistra says it won’t be a spectacle for several more months," she continued, "We’ve also got quite a bit of light pollution here."

"All very true."

Hermione twisted her head sideways to look at him and lifted her brows at his unconcerned tone. _"How_ were you planning to observe it, again?"

He rolled his head back in her direction as well, smiling slyly, his expression no doubt making his response clear. _He hadn’t been._ "It’s too bad, isn’t it? Guess we’ll just have to settle for star gazing." He answered innocently.

Hermione broke into giggles. "You’re not even _trying_ to pretend you’re actually disappointed!"

"It was a horrible excuse at best to lure you up here, and you knew it from the start." He chided.

Hermione laughed again, and then, to his pleasure, snuggled against his side. "I see. So now that you’ve ‘lured me up here,’ what, exactly, do you plan on doing with me?" Her breath was warm against his neck, tickling his ear as she whispered it.

Excellent. They were clearly on the same page. His mouth found hers in reply, and she eagerly kissed him back, sighing a little as she seemed to just melt against him. She was deliciously soft—soft curves, soft lips, a cloud of soft hair. The fingers of his right hand seemed to be all tangled up in it, even as his left tucked her more closely into his body. Her shirt had ridden up a little in the back so that his knuckles were actually brushing against her bare skin. That was soft, too.

Her mouth tasted like the oranges she had been snacking on earlier in the evening, oranges and cinnamon tea and heat. Did heat have a taste? He felt himself groan a little as her tongue slid along his, and decided that yes, heat did have a taste. Feeling more confident about what he was doing this time, Severus kissed her more thoroughly, pleased when her own fingers tightened around his neck.

She worried his lips a little, nipping and sucking them softly; it made him instantly hard again—it was honestly ridiculous how little it took for her to put him in that state. Praying she wouldn’t realise, he shifted a little to the side. She responded by shifting with him until she was half lying on him, and then he was lost beyond thought. For several long minutes there was nothing but her warm weight against him, the feeling of her mouth, soft curves and the almost uncontrollable need to let his hands drift down to cup her denim-clad arse and rock into her.

He very nearly didn’t catch himself in time. When he realised mid-snog just how close he was to likely getting smacked, he reversed the direction of his hands with alacrity, stroking back up her spine instead. This elicited a short, throaty moan from Hermione, and she had actually _wriggled_ in his lap. His heart stopped for a split second and he bloody well near came in his pants.

He broke their kiss hurriedly, his breath a bit labored. "Hermione," he murmured, slightly panicked, "Wait…" she was kissing his jaw, the witch, those warm, slightly wicked lips making a little trail down his throat and back towards his mouth. Her thigh was now firmly snugged against his crotch—there was no hiding that he was _entirely_ turned on—and if he couldn’t get her to stop it he was going to seriously embarrass himself.

"Hermione!" He burst out, pushing her away. "Wait…just, wait." He took in a deep breath and focused on it, trying not to think about his cock throbbing right on the edge of explosion. He cracked an eyelid to look at her and saw self-conscious confusion writ all over her face. "Just…give me a minute, will you? Things were just getting…a little much for me for a moment there."

She blinked at him owlishly, and then comprehension suddenly seemed to dawn. Her eyes darted toward his groin and away again; her cheeks lit a deep crimson. Instead of embarrassing him further, the way he thought it should have, her clear mortification instead steadied him, even made him smile. "What?" He found himself teasing her, "You didn’t even _notice_ this time?"

"I…I rather got a bit carried away," she admitted, and then grinned at him, looking for all the world like a cat who’d eaten the canary.

"What?" He asked a little unnerved by her smug smile.

"Well—don’t laugh okay?—but I just feel sort of oddly pleased. It’s a bit of a lift to the self-esteem that I can, you know, do _that_ to you. Have that effect, I mean."

"Hell, I’m sixteen. It’s not like it’s _that_ hard." He responded without thinking. Her grin widened and a small snort escaped her, and he felt his cheeks burn. "That’s not what I meant," he protested. "Difficult. It’s not that difficult to, uh…"

"Stir your potion?" She asked with a wicked grin.

"Hermione!" He groaned, rocking his head back against the roof.

She snickered, a coy smile turning her lips up as her tone became deceptively innocent.

"You know, I have this horribly cranky Potions Professor who always says that I’m no good at the subject at all." She leaned back into him, her lips ghosting over his jaw line again. "He says I’ve got no _instinctual_ knack for it." Her lips pressed briefly against his, the merest hint of her tongue licking against his lower lip. "But I’ve never really believed that, I happen to think my methods are rather effective. What do you think?"

"No…no I think your methods are fine," he rasped, tugging her back against his chest. "But practice is terribly important when it comes to Potions, you know."

She dissolved into laughter as their mouths met once more; they didn’t make it back inside until nearly two in the morning.

* * *

_Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, 24 July 1996, 04:15 PM_

Severus looked down at the massacre in front of him and mentioned idly, "I hope you realise how surreal this situation is for me. I am at Sirius Black’s house, playing chess with my Gryffindor… girlfriend…who also happens to be best friends with a Potter." He eyed her just a touch nervously, but she didn’t protest his terminology. Girlfriend. He had a girlfriend. Severus let the thought roll about his mind a moment, caught between satisfaction and disbelief.

She didn’t appear to notice his inner debate in the slightest. Instead, she was frowning at the chessboard in front of them, her lips pursed in an enticing little pout. He watched with no small amusement as her brow furrowed in frustrated concentration, and then with more conviction than talent ordered her remaining knight to behead one of his rooks.

The rook actually gave him a long-suffering look before resignedly succumbing. Hermione’s knight eyed the queen it was directly in the path of with trepidation. Severus shook his head in wonder. "You really are _terrible_ at chess, did you know?" He commented.

"I _hate_ chess." Hermione answered, looking annoyed. "Especially Wizards’ Chess— it’s positively barbaric. Not to mention I had a traumatic experience with a gigantic Wizards’ Chess set when I was twelve. You know I’m only playing because you like it."

"Well, what would _you_ rather do?"

She shook her head, her mass of curls bobbing, and gave him a wry glance. "Just end it, will you? I know you’ve been holding off just to be nice."

He lifted an eyebrow—he’d finally gotten that trick down!—and gave his readied order. He watched with a little amusement as she winced when his chess piece brutalised hers, and then said calmly, "Check."

For a moment he thought something was seriously wrong—she was white, staring at where his Queen had used her throne to bash her knight to pieces. To his surprise, she shivered a little, and then abruptly said, "That’s as good as the game. I’m done, I think." Her gaze dropped to stare mutinously at the chessboard, her lips pursed again and her left fist clenched. Hermione Granger, he realised, was not a girl accustomed to losing at much. Her eyes caught his, and when she saw the laughter in his own gaze, she sighed and smiled a little ruefully. "I’m sorry; I’m a bit tense, aren’t I?"

"A bit, yeah." He grinned, and then his smile faltered a little. "It’s not because of last night, is it?"

Her eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously, her one of her long curls actually whipping her in the nose as she did so. It was probably a measure of how pathetic he already was that he found even that adorable.

"That particular chess move is just…it’s got some memories attached to it, that’s all. And I’m fretting because I haven’t received my OWL scores yet—they should have been here a couple of weeks ago—I’m worried that the wards on this house have turned them back. If that weren’t enough, Harry’s birthday is in a week and I haven’t had a chance to go shopping for a present." She suddenly looked stricken. "I’m not even sure I’ll get to see him; I haven’t made any arrangements to go to the Weasleys’."

Severus blinked at her outpouring, and opened his mouth to answer. Instead he ended up sneezing, only barely turning his face into his robes in time to keep from getting the chess board.

"Bless you," she responded, idly moving one of her chess pieces by hand to a square it couldn’t legally occupy. It was difficult to say if the chess piece looked more affronted by the handling or the illegality.

Severus nodded his thanks, and finally was able to answer, "I can possibly solve one of those at least—I forgot to mention it earlier. I mean, it might not be anything, but someone who was here yesterday left you some letters on the table downstairs. One of them has got the Ministry seal on it—it’s probably your scores. I saw them this afternoon when I went to grab some breakfast."

Hermione promptly went mad; honestly Severus couldn’t think of another way to describe it. She was out of her chair with a _shriek_ that could possibly have passed for a mandrake wail and had bolted for the stairs before he had barely finished the sentence. The chess set was actually upended in her haste, the remaining few pieces were sent flying every which way as she bounded out the door.

Severus felt his jaw drop slightly at the display, and then continue to fall as he heard her pound down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen. How anyone as trim as she was could make that much noise was beyond logic. He closed his mouth, feeling both amused and bemused, and leaned down to pick up the chess pieces that had fallen. The taken pieces had fortunately already repaired themselves before her sudden fit, but he had to hunt for the white queen for a few moments before he found her under the couch.

Severus cautiously descended the last flight of narrow stairs to the basement kitchen, uncertain of how to handle the new personality development in his girlfriend. _His girlfriend._ It was such a weird thought. It made him smile faintly in pleasure, even if she was a complete lunatic. He wasn’t entirely certain what to expect when he got to the kitchen, so it was pleasantly relieving to see her just standing by the table, staring at one of the letters that had been left for her. Then he noticed her stony expression, her rigid stance and how her left hand had re-curled into a small fist at her side.

"All right?" He asked.

Her lips tightened for a moment before she responded, "All right; I got an E in Defence."

"That’s good." He responded. Likely he would have gotten better—Defence was one of his best subjects, but an Exceeds Expectations was hardly something to warrant her upset expression. "Did you fail something else, or…?"

"What? No!" The look she gave him was insulted. "Of course not."

"Then…"

"I just said, didn’t I? I got an E." She muttered, slapping the Ministry letter back down on the table.

She had expected full marks across her O.W.L.s, had she? It had happened before, of course, so it wasn’t impossible, but it was rare enough that it usually only happened every other year or so. He had rather anticipated the same for himself, but he hadn’t gotten to actually take his O.W.L.s. He would have to ask his elder self what was going to be done about that, he realised.

Curiously, he lifted her marks from the table while she tore into one of the other two letters left for her, and suppressed a smile. She nearly had gotten straight-Os. The E in Defence was her only mark that wasn’t an Outstanding. He had known she was intelligent, but the fact that she actually seemed to care about her marks as much as he did and didn’t just treat school as social hour was a bonus. She clearly had her priorities straight; it was an odd but welcome trait to find. Severus dropped himself into a seat, feeling rather pleased with himself.

"Apparently my scores were delivered to care-of-Hogwarts when the Ministry owl was turned back from my parents’ house." Hermione ventured, reading the letter. "They couldn’t locate me and so sent them to the Headmaster to keep on file. Professor McGonagall brought them yesterday to the meeting, along with a couple of letters."

Hermione waved the letter in her hand. "I’ve been invited to go and celebrate Harry's birthday with the Weasley family next week, stay at the Burrow until their school shopping trip in three weeks time and be taken to the train on the first."

Severus felt his mood darken. "What about me? Am I going shopping and celebrating Potter’s birthday?" Potter’s name came out on a sneer, and Hermione visibly winced.

Her hand smoothed down the thigh of her denims, clearly discomfited, the letter from the Weasley matriarch still clutched in her opposite hand, and then searched his face for several long moments. Severus knew he looked a bit defensive and sullen, but couldn’t seem to help himself.

"I don’t think so." She said finally. "She hasn’t met you; I’m not sure she even knows about you yet. I’ll ask if you like—I’ve been friends with them and Harry for years. We all went as a group last year, also, and the year before. My parents haven’t…" her lip suddenly trembled, and Severus felt himself straighten infinitesimally in alarm. Why was she suddenly on the verge of tears?

She collected herself after a moment, and then continued, "My parents haven’t taken me to Diagon Alley since my third year—Mrs. Weasley invited me along on their family trips after that." She shrugged, a little, and smiled a little wryly. "Last year we even stayed here for a while. Primarily, I think, because Mrs. Weasley wanted help trying to clean this place," her nose wrinkled, and she added, "It was really awful here." 

Her expression turned serious. "You’ll give them a chance, won’t you? You’re not supposed to be already biased, and Harry isn’t like his father, I swear! He and Ron are my _best friends._ For my first couple years at school, they were my _only_ friends."

A low knot formed in Severus’ stomach. She expected him to be friends with _Potter?_ Unbidden, the words his elder self had said when he had caught them in the hall almost exactly two months earlier rose in his mind. _"She's rather like the Lupin to their Potter and Black. They change their Pettigrew on a regular basis, depending on whom and what they need. You wouldn't want to be the next replacement. Their last one ended up dead…"_

"Severus?" Hermione asked, her voice pleading.

"Atreus." He corrected her. "You have _got_ to remember. I’ve been reminding you all summer. Think of it as a nickname if you have to, but you have _got_ to remember to call me Atreus."

"Atreus. Right, I’m sorry. Atreus, please will you give Harry and Ron a chance? You can sit with us on the train, get to know them a bit, yeah?"

Severus heaved a sigh, and cleared his throat when it nearly set him to coughing again. "Fine. I’ll play nice, but if they hex first, I’m not taking it lying down just because they’re your friends."

She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his, and Severus found himself wondering if it would really be so awful to be friends with a Potter if he was rewarded on a regular basis for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The response to last chapter was so fantastic! Thank you so, so much for the love and support, everyone! I cannot begin to express how wonderful some of you made me feel. :-DI got not one, but TWO pieces of gorgeous art for this story by a couple of incredibly kind and generous ladies-please go to my Live Journal, check them out and then go tell SusanMarieR and Lemonade8 how awesome they are!


	16. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen:** _(in which Hermione goes shopping in Diagon Alley with the Weasleys)_

_The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon, 23 August 1996, 08:32 AM_

Hermione was far more excited to embark upon the annual shopping trip in Diagon Alley than she had ever been in the past; she was literally bouncing on her toes a bit in impatient anticipation. She couldn't seem to help it; the month of August had been quite possibly the longest month of her life.

She had been moody, embarrassingly so, and reticent, unable to motivate herself into the same amount of exuberance as Harry and the Weasley siblings over the last month of summer. She knew she was being a bit of a prat, but couldn't seem to help or stop herself. She kept thinking about _him._ They had exchanged two letters apiece in the three weeks since she had left Grimmauld Place, and it simply wasn't enough. She missed him and his slow smile and witty conversation and his dry sense of humour. She found herself rapidly changing moods throughout the day as she flipped between pining for his company and day dreaming about his lean body and druggingly lovely kisses.

It was utterly ridiculous. No matter how many times she told herself she was being a silly and hormonal teenager, or reminded herself that it was only for a few weeks, she couldn't seem to stop herself swinging wildly from euphoria to pouting. He was the first boy she had ever really, truly fancied who liked her back—Ronald had never returned her fledgling affections and Viktor had always been more a social experimentation than a true relationship.

 _Atreus,_ though… _Atreus_ made her feel giddy and attractive and a bit powerful, and now, _finally,_ after three interminable weeks, the Weasley family was going shopping in Diagon Alley and taking Harry and her along. Atreus had sworn in his last letter that he would be there as well, accompanied by Madam Pomfrey, and they had made plans to meet up at Flourish and Blotts.

She didn't even realise that she was humming until Ron gave her a _look_ and said sourly, "What are you so pleased about? I didn't think you liked shopping especially. It's one of your redeeming qualities as a girl."

Hermione's acidic retort was cut short by Harry chiming in, "Oi, but you forgot, Ron. This is shopping for _school._ When have you ever known school not to cheer Hermione up?"

"You're both wrong, morons." The two boys turned to gape at Ginny, who gave Hermione an arch look. Heat stole its way to her cheeks as it became apparent from her smug, knowing expression that Ginny _knew._ Hermione hadn't been quite careful enough, and the younger girl had added up that she was mooning like a silly twit over a boy. Not only that, Hermione realised, but Ginny had likely also figured out who the boy in question was, and knew that he was Severus Snape, albeit a younger version. How utterly mortifying.

Hermione gave her friend a beseeching look as a clueless Ron inquired, "Is that so? What's your theory, then?"

Ginny lifted a brow at her silent plea, stuck out her tongue at her brother, and responded cheerily, "That's for me to know, and you to discover!"

Hermione let out her breath in a soft sigh of relief. She hadn't yet figured out how to precisely tell the boys that she had started a relationship over the summer. She did know, however, that it would be better coming from her than someone else, and that she would have to do it in the next hour or so. There would be no hiding it when she asked to meet up with Atreus in Diagon Alley, and they would be far more likely to behave at least marginally well if they were prepared ahead of time for it. Yet…yet Hermione couldn't help but feel apprehensive at the prospect.

Hermione chewed on her lip, trying to figure out the best way to explain that she had a _boyfriend,_ and she would very much appreciate them not acting like complete arses to him. Molly Weasley interrupted her thoughts, bustling into the living room and waving her wand a bit like a conducting baton.

"Come, come, you four, time to go! We have a busy day ahead of us, and Diagon Alley is bound to be packed, this close to the start of school. We'll have to arrive earlier than usual if we're to spend any time with your brothers at all and Daisy Brown is to meet us with her daughter at Pelwyn's Tea House for lunch. She's in your year, isn't she? Lavender? Such a nice girl. I'm not sure why we've never had her over to spend time with you girls." Ginny grimaced behind her mother's back and Hermione laughed silently in response.

Molly caught Hermione's smile, and smiled back happily, misunderstanding the expression to be one of pleasure at the prospect of Lavender Brown's company. To Hermione's horror, the Weasley matron winked, and continued blithely, "Perhaps ]i>she will be able to worm the details out of our Hermione about her new young man."

The boys gaped, and Ginny winced in sympathy. Everyone was silent for a long moment, until an apologetic look stole across Mrs. Weasley's face. "I'm so sorry dear, you three are so close, I thought they would have already known by now. I heard it from Tonks at the last Order meeting how you seemed to be getting along exceptionally well with him."

At this affirmation, and Hermione's lack of denial, Harry opened and closed his mouth several times and Ron finally burst out, "There's a _bloke?"_

The frank incredulity in his tone and on his face made Hermione's irritation rise. "Honestly, Ronald," she snapped, "it isn't as if I'm completely unattractive, or without feelings. Just because _you're_ not interested doesn't mean no one else is, and I _like_ him."

"I never said…" Ron mumbled, and then shot her a wounded, betrayed look.

"How did you meet him?" Harry asked suddenly, his green eyes sharp.

Hermione tried not to squirm. "We thought it best if my parents went into hiding, considering the situation, so I've stayed for a little bit at Grimmauld Place. He's been staying there too, until school starts. He's coming to Hogwarts." Her attention turned to Mrs. Weasley. "I didn't want to presume…"

The woman smiled at her reassuringly. "That's very polite of you dear, but of course you would have been welcome here, I would hope you know that."

Hermione ducked her head, not wanting to explain that she hadn't _wanted_ to spend nearly the entirety of her summer at the Burrow. Tactfully, she inquired instead, "We were planning to meet up at Flourish and Blotts—do you mind horribly?"

"No, dear, of course not." She patted Hermione's shoulder and reached for the Floo pot, handing out small handfuls to each of them. "We can invite him and whomever is accompanying him along for lunch with the Browns! Won't that be lovely!"

As she watched the woman spin through the Floo to Diagon Alley, Hermione felt her stomach sink. Lunch with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Atreus, _Lavender_ and three adult ladies sounded rather like an unmitigated disaster to her. Her day was rapidly crumbling from the excitement of seeing Atreus again to horror.

Feeling slightly desperate, she pleaded to her friends, _"Please_ try to get along with him; I really like him."

Ginny answered immediately, "Of course we will, Hermione." She gave her brother a pointed look. "Won't we, Ron, Harry? Anyone you like is bound to be brilliant, and you were completely supportive of Harry when he botched things with Cho. _Right,_ Ron?"

Ron gave Hermione a sullen look and pushed passed his sister to follow his mother into the Floo, disappearing after a small mutter. Hermione's heart sank further.

Harry looked uncomfortable, smiled weakly, and responded unconvincingly. "Yeah…yeah, sure, of course." He followed Ron through the Floo a moment later, leaving Hermione feeling slightly nauseous.

Ginny rounded on her. "Have you kissed him? Wait, don't answer that, I'm not sure if I want to think about you kissing, you know, _Professor Snape."_ She chewed on her lip indecisively, and then just as suddenly said, "Yes, I do—He's got an incredible voice; I could listen to him read the dictionary. Have you kissed him? Is he any good? Does he concentrate as much doing that as he does with his potions stuff? I bet he's bloody good at snogging if he does."

"He's the professor's nephew, and his name is _Atreus,_ Ginny! And the two of you have _never met,_ remember?" Hermione said fiercely, feeling her cheeks heat.

"Oh-ho! He _is."_ The younger girl's eyes danced. "We'll have to compare notes on him and Michael tonight, after we're alone again. Not that we’re still together—he was a complete arse—but he was very good at kissing!" She grinned widely, and practically skipped into the Floo, completely missing the almost inaudible whimper Hermione was unable to hold in at her suggestion.

* * *

_Diagon Alley, London, 23 August 1996, 11:45 AM_

Ron spent the morning surly and sullen, actively ignoring Hermione but for the occasional glare and forcibly attempting to monopolise Harry's attention. Harry, for his part, kept shooting her awkward and apologetic glances. He looked like he wanted to ask questions but was afraid of setting Ron off.

After visiting their respective vaults in Gringotts, their small group headed toward Madam Malkin’s. Harry finally cleared his throat, and transparently attempting to thaw the increasingly frosty atmosphere, ventured, "So…this bloke of yours, does he play Quidditch?"

Hermione smiled brilliantly at him, grateful that he was at least _trying,_ and opened her mouth to respond. She was left with her mouth hanging open when she realised she didn't actually know the answer. Furiously she thought back; he had never really expressed an interest in Quidditch in particular, but the Professor had refereed a game in their first year, so clearly he _could_ play and was interested enough to know all the rules.

"We haven't actually discussed it, much." Hermione admitted, "You know I'm not the biggest fan, so it never really came up." She darted a look at Ron, and continued, "He plays chess, though—he's really good at it."

Ron sneered in return, and Harry smiled weakly. After a moment, he tried valiantly again, "So where is he from? I mean, where did he go to school before?"

Hermione felt herself brighten again, relieved, and launched into the background she and Atreus had come up with together. "Beauxbatons. His parents…uh, they died in May, and now his uncle has custody, so he's going to be coming to Hogwarts." It had seemed the best choice, considering that Atreus already spoke French, if not quite as well as the story implied.

Ron finally interjected. "He's _French?_ What is it with you and foreign guys? Are we not good enough for you, Hermione?" His lip curled and his arms folded.

Hermione glared and shook her head. "Stop being so defensive, Ron! I might have expressed an interest in someone that goes to Hogwarts if anyone had _bothered_ to express an interest in _me,"_ she retorted. "And for your information, Atreus' father was British; he was born and raised here. His mum is French, so he went to school there."

Ron let out a disgruntled snort in reply, just as they entered Madam Malkin’s, but then conversation was no longer possible. The next few hours or so were taken up in a flurry of noise and fabric—the shop was busy, and it was discovered that both the boys had shot up over the summer by an inch or two.

By the time they had finished outfitting their group with what they needed for the upcoming school year, they only had a couple of hours or so left before lunch. As they left the shop, they nearly ran into Draco Malfoy and his mother entering. The woman's nose lifted in distaste, and Draco commented rudely on the smell of Mudbloods, directing a supercilious look at Hermione. Only Mrs. Weasley's firm grip on her son's collar and daughter's arm kept them moving smoothly out the door.

"The _nerve,"_ Ron seethed, temporarily forgetting his ire towards Hermione when confronted with a common enemy. "How dare he say things like that? You should have let me say something," he groused at his mother.

"We cannot control other people's poor behaviour, but we can control our own. I'll not have my children starting public arguments, especially not while the situation is so precarious." Mrs. Weasley gave her son a stern look, "Can you not see how many shops are closed, how frightened people are? Causing a scene could very well be the bad stir that sets off the cauldron explosion. Worse, it brings attention to us from the sort of people that we could just as well do without, Ronald Weasley."

The redhead muttered under his breath uncharitably, but finally nodded assent. Her point made, Mrs. Weasley glanced between Slug and Jiggers and Wiseacre's, clearly debating if they had time to get in and out of both before lunch. Hermione ventured, "Ginny and I are the only ones who need things from Slug and Jiggers, since the boys aren't taking Potions this year; why don't you send us in with the list while you three go to Wiseacres, and we'll all meet up at Flourish and Blotts before lunch?

Mrs. Weasley hesitated a bit further, eyeing a few of the shabby stalls and boarded up storefronts that had appeared over the summer. Her reluctance to leave any of them alone was palpable.

"Look," said Ginny, "isn’t that Professor Vector in Slug and Jiggers? We’ll be _fine,_ mum. We’ll meet you at Flourish and Blotts, we won’t be more than half an hour."

Mrs. Weasley eyed the window of the shop again, and then finally nodded, briskly motioning for the boys to follow her down the street towards the all-purpose supply store. Ginny grinned at Hermione, pleased that they had been left on their own in Diagon Alley, and tugged her towards the shop.

Professor Vector was indeed inside, and she seemed to be on her own. It was, Hermione realised, the perfect opportunity for her to ask her about Unspeakable Damian Vector, and what she might know of him, provided Ginny didn’t stick to her side. The professor would speak with her, she was sure of it. Arithmancy was her favourite class, and the strict professor often shared friendly conversations with Hermione outside of class.

A bell jingled over the door as the two girls entered, and Ginny surprised her by saying first, "You grab what you need and I’ll get mine. Meet you at the till, alright?" She barely waited for Hermione’s nod before wandering off toward the back of the narrow, but deep shop.

Shrugging a little at her good fortune, Hermione approached her professor. "Professor Vector!" she exclaimed. "Hi!"

The woman turned, surprised, and then smiled as she saw her top student approach. "Hello, Hermione. Shopping for school, today?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, you?"

"I’m picking up a few things, yes. My N.E.W.T. classes will be studying the practical applications of Arithmancy to potions work. You will be taking my class again this year, I hope?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Hermione enthused. "It’s my favourite subject. I wanted to ask you—I was introduced to a Damian Vector over the summer; is he a relative of yours?"

Her instructor looked taken aback. "Ah, yes. Yes, he’s a cousin of sorts. I’m surprised, however that he would…" Professor Vector’s voice trailed off and she shook herself. Her dark blue eyes focused on Hermione with laser-sharp precision, before asking probingly, "You met at the British Museum, I imagine?"

Suddenly getting the feeling that the answer to this particular question was more important than she knew, Hermione jerked her head in a nod, and affirmed, "Y-yes. Yes, of course. He’s very interesting." _The British Museum?_ What would Unspeakable Damian Vector have to do with the British Museum?

Nonetheless, Hermione’s professor seemed to relax slightly. Her expression was still a bit troubled, however and she said reluctantly, "These are dangerous times, Hermione, and unfortunately, we can’t always be certain whom we can trust and those whom we cannot. My cousin has always been brilliant and charismatic, but also a bit unpredictable and wild. I do not think he would be appropriate company for a witch like yourself."

Hermione nodded, her mind whirling. "Of course, Professor. It was a one-time occurrence; I doubt we’ll run into each other again." _Until I manage to go to the British Museum, at any rate._ Aloud, she said, "It was lovely to see you; I’ll see you in class, Professor!"

She quickly gathered what things she needed, lingering indecisively by the contraceptive potions, embarrassed. Should she grab a couple? She wasn’t quite ready for _that_ yet, no matter how nice kissing Atreus was, but it was better to be prepared than not, wasn’t it? Hermione turned away from the shelves. Surely one of them could brew one when the time came.

Hermione stopped in her tracks as a sudden thought hit her. If they didn’t have access to the right components, she wouldn’t have this chance to buy one without adult supervision again. Hermione dithered. She had been told that Madame Pomfrey kept a stock, but how embarrassing would it be to ask, especially for Atreus, since she was something of a surrogate parent figure to him?

Hermione was still shifting her weight back and forth between leaving the aisle and grabbing a couple of bottles before she left, when Ginny found her. "I’m _so_ glad we talked mum into going with the boys. I would never have gotten the chance to get these." The younger girl’s eyes rolled, and she dumped several doses into her shopping basket. "Can you imagine her _face?"_

Hermione felt her mouth drop. "Ginny, are you—? I didn’t know you were—!"

"Oh, I’m not, I mean, not _all the way,_ you know? But it doesn’t hurt to not be stupid, you know? You should get one or two, as well."

Hermione flushed, but felt a little less self-conscious adding them. The two girls made their way to the counter and paid for their purchases. Hermione thought her face might explode into flame, but the spotty-faced clerk behind the register didn’t change expression at all. How many teenagers must he ring up contraceptives for that it didn’t faze him at all? Were _all_ the older students at Hogwarts having sex?

Ginny giggled as they left Slug and Jiggers and headed towards Flourish and Blotts. "Hermione, stop looking so guilty. Mum will know for sure."

"He didn’t seem to care at all, though. The clerk, I mean."

"Well, of course not. He’s barely out of Hogwarts himself, I wager, and a _bloke._ He wouldn’t want girls to think he wasn’t cool about it, or something. Besides, he _does_ work in an apothecary, and it _is_ a popular potion. He probably _isn’t_ embarrassed by it."

"Even though we were clearly school shopping? Do you think everyone is really, you know, having sex?" Hermione said it on a whisper, slightly nervous that despite all logic, Molly Weasley would somehow hear the conversation.

Ginny actually rolled her eyes. "I doubt it. It’s one of those things, I think, you know? Where everyone in school thinks everyone else is, and everyone buys the potion thinking _maybe,_ but it probably actually doesn’t really happen that much at all. I mean, really, we’ve all known each other since we were eleven. It makes even the larger classes seem small."

Hermione nodded, thoughtfully. "We’re all in each other’s business; it’d be a hard thing to keep totally quiet about, especially for the blokes."

"Exactly." Ginny gave a wicked smile. "Doesn’t stop them from hoping though, or the girls from buying ‘just in case.’"

Hermione grinned back, and the two pushed their way into the busy Flourish and Blotts. The store was busy, though not quite as bad as it had been in years past. Hermione pulled her book list from her bag and studied it, idly winding her way through the store to the textbook section. Ginny followed, fussing with her bag a bit, chattering in general about school and summer gossip she had gleaned.

They found the boys at the end of an aisle, tensely staring beyond the end cap at something out of sight. Ron’s expression was menacing, and Harry actually had his wand out, pointed tensely. Eyes wide, her own hand flying to the handle of her wand, Hermione shifted to the left behind the boys for a better view, only to find that on the business end of Harry’s wand, his own wand out threateningly, was Atreus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So many things to report! First of all, I would like to give a special thanks to the amazing people who have been so patient during the last couple months while my attention was stolen away by the SSHG prompt exchange. Keep an eye out-there are some amazing fics and art being posted-see if you can figure out what's mine by the end of the month!
> 
> I would particularly like to send heartfelt thanks to ThornedHuntress and Nathaniel Cardeu (my insanity handlers), and the amazing folks who reviewed-THANK YOU so much.
> 
> Secondly: I was informed this morning that I won first place at the HPFanFicFanPollAwards on live journal for "Best Romance Story" in their Harmony category for"Hermione's Favourite Gift." Thank you to my mysterious nominator and those who voted for me; you blew me away and humbled me!
> 
> Thirdly, speaking of "Hermione's Favourite Gift," it was also chosen to be podcast on this round of the HP Pod Fics along with my story "Of Felines and Family," read by my dear friend and banner artist, SusanMarieR and Finalbos!
> 
> Lastly: I received some new and fantastic fan art from Ekr, who's talent had my jaw on the floor! Please stop by Ekr's Deviant Art page and mention how awesome it is (link is on my livejournal)!


	17. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
**   
By: TycheSong

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen:** _(In which Atreus makes the acquaintance of Hermione's friends and an awkward lunch is had by all)_

_Diagon Alley, London, 23 August 1996, 12:16 PM_

It always seemed to come back to this. He had promised to play nice—and he hadn’t done a damn thing—yet somehow he always ended up with Potter and a friend or three sticking their wands in his face. He would most likely take the blame _this_ time, too. Never mind that he felt like death and had been entirely engrossed in the IGPA’s Published _Master and Grand Master Class Level Dissertations-1995 Vol 2._

"You!" The venomous exclamation jerked him away from the sentence he was picking his way through. The polished holly only a few inches from his face had him dropping the dry, heavy book and pulling his own wand hastily. He stumbled back for a bit more room, swearing softly as his vision blurred slightly and the floor tilted. He only barely kept his balance, and when he pointed his wand back at the boy who had popped out from the nearby aisle, it wavered slightly. Fucking head cold was going to get him killed.

Behind Potter, the red-headed boy laid a hand on his own wand hilt threateningly. Severus prepared himself to cast a Shielding charm—he wasn’t stupid enough to actually hex in public—but in his current condition, he was truthfully uncertain that he would be able to cast _anything._

 _At least Potter would get expelled._ Using magic underage outside of school to hex an innocent bystander in front of the many witnesses that were in this shop was certain academic suicide. Not even Dumbledore would be able to save him.

Hermione’s friend or not, it would be one less thing to have to deal with. He had enough on his plate, really, with being dumped in a new time, new allegiances, a _girlfriend_ of all things, and some weird strain of influenza that wouldn’t go away regardless of how many Pepper-Up Potions he’d taken. Maybe if he were lucky, whatever Potter hexed him with would put him out of his misery.

Instead of actually following through on his wand-threat, however, Potter merely glared, and said tightly, "I saw you at Hogwarts, just before school ended. You hexed me in the hall." His wand was steady, pointing neatly between Severus’ eyes, but remained quiescent. Perversely, Severus found himself disappointed. Seeing Potter expelled before class even began would have been a bright spot to his otherwise miserable morning. Unfortunately, Potter was apparently not going to actually participate in his own demise, the arsehole.

Taking his cue from the other boy, Severus lifted the edge of one lip in a sneer and met Potter’s gaze unflinchingly. Like facing off with a hippogriff, it was the only thing to do with a Gryffindor, really. Unfortunately, staring straight at Potter made it impossible to ignore something any longer.

Green eyes.

His eyes were achingly familiar. The almost mirror-image of James Potter that stood before him had eyes that should have _never_ belonged in that face, and Severus felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. He could have nearly stood it if Lily had chosen anyone— _anyone_ —else. Severus’ wand wavered slightly, but visibly, and he saw the red-head’s forehead crease slightly. Fucking fantastic. Now the hippogriffs—er, Gryffindors—would charge or something, he thought irrationally.

Instead, the other boy dropped his hand from his wand hilt and looked uncertain. "Harry," he started, but before he could continue, their stand-off was interrupted as Hermione and another girl suddenly appeared over Potter’s other shoulder.

"Harry! Atreus! Stop it this _instant!_ You both _promised."_ Hermione forcibly shoved her way between Potter and the red-headed boy, and yanked Potter’s wand arm down.

The girl who had been impatiently trying to see around Hermione let out a soft screech and immediately joined Hermione. "Harry, what are you doing? Put that away, we’re in public. You can’t just go pointing that at people! You of all people should know better!" She poked her finger into Potter’s chest forcefully, making him wince slightly. She looked familiar, but Severus couldn’t put his finger on precisely where he had seen her before.

His head swam a little, and he found himself letting out a relieved breath that he wouldn’t have to muster the energy to defend himself. Severus lowered his own wand, and tucked it back into his sleeve. His pride stung a little that he was being saved from what certainly lost battle by a couple of girls; Severus deliberately and literally bit his tongue.

The sense of déjà vu he felt watching the red-headed girl tell off Potter on his behalf actually made him wonder briefly if he was hallucinating the whole stuck-in-a-future-time situation. At any second Potter would decide that the best course of action was to bare Severus’ prick to the world in a humiliating show of dominance again.

It was ironic, really. It felt like life was handing him some sort of epic moment of possible redemption for the way he had screwed everything up the first time, and he really just wanted to go back to bed. Or at least give in to the urgent need to sit down before he fell down. Not in front of Potter, though. He’d be _damned_ if he looked weak in front of Potter.

Madam Pomfrey hadn’t even wanted him to come to Diagon Alley today—when he and his latest Order babysitter had met her at the Leaky Cauldron for her to escort him in gathering school supplies, she had vigorously and loudly protested that he needed to go to the infirmary, or perhaps even St. Mungo's. The same pure, bullheaded stubbornness that kept him standing now had finally talked her into letting him go on this shopping trip, but she had spent the entire time so far with pursed, disapproving lips, and had asked him every ten minutes if he needed to sit down. He hadn’t thought he looked that bad, even if he did feel trampled by a herd of centaurs.

Centaurs. _That’s_ where he had seen the redhead before—in the hospital wing. She had gone to the Ministry with Hermione the night The Arse had died, and had been injured in some way. Hermione had indicated during their conversation that she might have overheard them. Severus gave her a sharp look, searching for any sign of dissimulation.

She seemed completely oblivious to his presence, however. She was still glaring at Potter, who had reluctantly—miracle of miracles—lowered his wand. He kept shifting his attention between her and Hermione, whose hair looked like it was actually bristling with her irritation.

Hermione hadn’t spared a glance in his direction either; no hello, no kiss, no _nothing,_ even after a full _month_ apart. He may not have had a girlfriend before, but he’d seen other classmates pairing off and he was fairly sure he was supposed to have received a more affectionate greeting than he had gotten. Severus scowled at the two girls’ backs, feeling neglected and abused in general.

Grumpily, he eyed the book he’d dropped, and stooped to pick it up, concentrating on not letting the floor tilt again. His treatment, and that of the book, had settled him into a thoroughly foul mood, and at this point he was ready to just stalk off and leave the lot of them for his bed after all.

Almost as if she were _trying_ to raise his ire further, Hermione laid a hand on Potter’s arm, and turned to look at Severus, her eyes slightly pleading. "Why don’t we all just take a moment to breathe, introduce each other properly, and have a civilised lunch together?"

Severus felt his brow quirk cynically in reflex, and Potter actually scowled at Hermione. "No," Potter said firmly, shrugging Hermione’s hand off his crossed arms, bringing those damnable eyes of his back to Severus as if he were trying to punch holes through him with it. "He still hasn’t explained why he would have hexed me at Hogwarts if he supposedly didn’t know me and wasn’t working for Voldemort."

Severus felt his lip curl. "I haven’t _explained_ because I have no idea what you are talking about. I haven’t been to Hogwarts before." Severus lied without compunction, knowing the other boy hadn’t a shred of proof that he had been in the hallway that night. The only two people who could say otherwise were his own older self, and—

"Yes you did! You caught me with a burn hex of some sort right across the thigh. Hermione remembers, she saw me that night, right?" Potter turned to look at Hermione, who was now biting her lip and giving Severus an uneasy look.

"Well… Harry, I saw the burn, but I wasn’t really there when it happened…" She prevaricated, her voice trailing off weakly under Potter’s glare.

"It was him. I _know_ it was." Potter asserted forcefully, swinging his gaze back to Severus challengingly.

"If you like, once we are all in school for the year, you can take the matter up with my uncle. He can attest that I have not been to Hogwarts." Severus feigned a bored look down at his book, idly brushing off non-existent dirt from the cover.

"Snape." Potter scoffed, in _exactly_ the same derisive tone of voice that his father had used at the same age. The red-headed boy nodded in agreement, his own expression scornful.

Severus drew himself up to every inch of height he could claim and looked down his nose at the two of them. "You would doubt the word of one of your _professors,_ Potter? I certainly don’t—so far you are proving just as he claimed: an inept, bumbling hot-head."

"Atreus!" Hermione snapped. "Stop antagonising him!"

Just whose side was she on, anyway? Severus felt his lips curl. He was apparently good enough when locked up under virtual house arrest, but now that she had her _Gryffindor_ friends back, clearly things were different. Just like he had been at Hogwarts, he had the sinking feeling that he was about to become her dirty little secret. He refused to admit to himself how much that actually hurt.

Gripping his book tightly, he was about to turn and leave them all, only to find Mrs. Weasley bearing down on their little group with a tall blonde and another girl that appeared to be their age in tow.

"Ahh! There you all are!" The woman beamed, apparently oblivious to the tension. Severus glanced back over at the others only to find them all with innocent expressions and their wands tucked away, though Potter did shoot him a dark look. Mrs. Weasley bestowed a bright smile on him and continued, "You must be Professor Snape’s nephew, Atreus; I’ve heard so much from Tonks about you, poor dear. Is that who is with you today, or are you with your uncle?"

Severus found himself shaking his head. "Professor Snape arranged for the school nurse to escort me today; he had a prior responsibility."

"You call your uncle ‘Professor?’" The blonde girl interjected, curiosity lighting her brown eyes.

Severus crossed his arms over his chest and pursed his lips. "I have only recently become acquainted with the professor—he and my father were not close. I have been informed not to expect preferential treatment, and that I was not to call him ‘Uncle Severus’ on pain of detention."

The girl tactlessly muttered something along the lines of Professor Snape _really_ being a git to _everyone,_ and above her head, Mrs. Weasley’s mouth tightened in disapproval. Whether it was for the girl’s comment or Severus’ he was not certain, for she immediately tried to steer the conversation back into a safer subject than Atreus’ supposedly recently deceased parents and moody ‘uncle.’

"I see Hermione has already introduced you to Harry, Ron and Ginny. This is Daisy Brown and her daughter Lavender; she’s in Gryffindor too. I’m sure you’ll all be splendid friends! Where is Madam Pomfrey? The two of you must join us for lunch."

Severus thought longingly of his bed, and how he would _really_ rather not spend more time in the company of Potter and Co. Especially since Hermione appeared to be having doubts about being with him in front of her friends. Severus hunched his shoulders, muttering, "I wouldn’t want to disrupt your plans. We still have some stops left, actually, and—"

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Weasley’s hand cut through the air decisively, "You would certainly not be ‘disrupting’ anything; the more the merrier! I know Hermione has been looking forward to seeing you again, as well. Now, just direct me to Madam Pomfrey so I can extend a proper invitation to you both."

Grudgingly, but uncertain what else to do, Severus pointed his chin in the direction of the front counter. "She was having a book ordered in at the desk, last I saw."

Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Brown trooped off in that direction, leaving the awkward group of teenagers to straggle behind, whole conversations shooting between them in a myriad of frowning glances and false smiles. It was the blonde—Lavender—who finally broke the stilted silence, sidling up to the Weasley boy and looping an arm through his, to his obvious surprise.

She directed a patently false smile at Hermione and asked sweetly, "So you and Atreus are, err, together, then?" Her voice implied doubt as she flicked her gaze over Hermione, and then she glanced at Severus. He felt her assess him and just as quickly dismiss him, before her eyes shot back to Weasley. They fluttered slightly and she continued. "That’s… nice. I’ve always preferred the athletic sort, myself."

Weasley looked rather pleased by this comment and his chest actually puffed out a bit. Rather like a baboon, Severus thought sourly. He was used to getting that sort of dismissal from girls, but found himself grinding his newly-straightened teeth anyway.

He shot a glance at his girlfriend, waiting for her acidic retort defending her own choice over Weasley. Hermione… Hermione appeared to be absolutely furious, but didn’t say anything, nor did she actually confirm that they were _together_ as Lavender put it—she just glared daggers at _Weasley._ Severus felt his heart sink further into his stomach. Clearly, despite whatever Mrs. Weasley thought, Lavender Brown was _not_ a close friend of Hermione’s at all. Just as clearly, Lavender's interest in Weasley was upsetting.

Severus felt himself grow defensive again. Had Hermione just been playing with him out of boredom? Or possibly using him to make Weasley jealous? He studied the other boy again, and caught a slightly smug look on Lavender’s face from under her lowered lashes. She wasn’t nearly as vapid as she pretended to be, he guessed, and found his hands clenching around his chosen book again as Hermione linked her own arm through his with a challenging look in the other girl’s direction. She was obviously doing it for their benefit, not his, and his feeling of mistreatment grew.

His unease and foul mood had not diminished in the slightest by the time they were all seated about a table at Pelwyn’s Tea House a half-hour later. It hadn’t helped in the slightest that Madam Pomfrey had asked after his health again in front of everybody, and left him with a potion to drink with his meal before taking herself off to the smaller, adjacent table where the three adults had chosen to sit. Honestly, Severus wasn’t certain how much more damage his dignity could take in one afternoon before he flat out begged to be taken back to Grimmauld Place, or even his boring, much smaller room at Hogwarts.

Lavender continued to flirt obnoxiously with Weasley, who seemed to be lapping up the attention like a puppy. Finally, his sister turned to Severus and asked loudly, "So, what’s your favourite subject, Atreus?"

Hermione gave the red-headed girl— _what_ was her name?—a grateful look as Severus considered the question for a moment. He was excellent at both Potions and Defence, but it was not perhaps in his best interest to say Potions, considering that he was supposed to be a different person than his ‘uncle.’ It was probably better to distance himself a bit to keep the parallels from continuously popping up. Mind made up, he answered firmly, "Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"That’s Harry’s best subject, too," Hermione offered. "And chess. Atreus is really good at chess—wasn’t I saying that you had that in common this morning, Ron?" Severus fought against wincing. Hermione had absolutely no subtlety at all.

Weasley didn't seem to notice. He shrugged and kept his attention on his new flirtation, who responded instead. "Perhaps you’ll be able to help Hermione in Defence, then, Atreus," Lavender shot another false smile across the table, "Defence is her worst subject."

Judging by her white knuckles, Severus would not have been surprised to see Hermione’s fork bend in half under her grip as she replied through gritted teeth, "I do perfectly well in Defence, Lavender."

The blonde waved her own fork about casually and responded blithely, "but you have to admit, you don’t do quite as well there as in your other classes."

"No one is perfect at everything, Hermione, even you." Weasley put in, talking around a mouthful of sandwich.

Lavender beamed at him, and Hermione actually _growled_ low in her throat. She looked ready to shove the fork still clenched in her fist through the other girl’s eye. Entertaining as that might end up being, it probably was a good idea to change the subject. Clearing his throat, Severus ventured, "What’s your _best_ subject, Hermione?"

Her eyes shot to him and she visibly relaxed a little. "I think I like Arithmancy best. Or possibly Ancient Runes."

"Hermione doesn’t really have a _best_ subject," Potter interjected, apparently deciding to join the Calm-Hermione-Down-Cause. "She’s got the top marks in _all_ of them. She’s Hogwarts' resident genius."

Lavender, however, appeared to be like a dog with a bone, and wouldn’t let her point go. "Except Defence, though, yeah? I mean, Hermione is definitely the top student at Hogwarts, that’s uncontested even by the most dedicated Ravenclaw." She shrugged as if embarrassed and said seriously to Severus, "I think she has trouble actually connecting with her magic at a basic level, though; you know—feeling it as a part of herself properly, which is so _important_ for subjects like Defence. That's why she failed Divination—it's all books to her and not enough a _part_ of her. Probably because she's Muggleborn."

Hermione’s mouth fell open in time with Potter’s sharply indrawn breath, and even Weasley looked uncomfortable.

The Weasley girl objected angrily, "Lavender! I cannot _believe_ you just said that! You know we don't hold with that sort of attitude."

Lavender gave the rest of the table a wounded look. "Oh you know I didn't mean it _that_ way—you all know better than anyone I don't have anything against Muggleborns. But before Hogwarts, they do grow up afraid of their magic more often than not, instead of embracing it. They usually _try_ to distance themselves instead of bonding with it properly." She lifted a patronising hand and continued, "It’s not their fault, and it doesn't make them worth _less_ —just not as good at some subjects."

Severus bit back a comment that _might_ have been misconstrued as agreement. Agreeing with the vicious blonde would clearly do him no favours, even if her argument actually did make some sense. How often had he felt that his own classmates didn’t understand Defence or Potions the way he did, simply because they didn’t _feel_ it like he did?

Potter gave Lavender a stiff look and objected, "I grew up in a Muggle household, but Defence is my best subject."

Lavender sipped from her water glass and answered mildly, "Yes, but let's be honest here, you've been pushed to focus and put more effort into that subject than any of the others, and you aren't a natural academic like Hermione to excel without trying in the drier bookish subjects. You're like Ron," she squeezed the arm of the redhead next to her. "More of a… physical sort."

"And yet, Hermione’s Defence mark is still better than yours, Lavender." The Weasley girl retorted.

"It isn’t." Lavender shook her head in denial, and smiled. "Not where it _counts._ She got and E on her Defence O.W.L., the same as me. Ron told me, right?" The girl actually batted her eyes at Weasley, smiled back at her beatifically.

"The same as _I."_ Severus found himself correcting, irritated in general with the entire table, and ready to set the blonde down a peg. "Hermione at least speaks proper English."

Hermione wasn’t paying attention to him, however. Her gaze still focused on the red-headed idiot across the table. "You told her my O.W.L. scores?"

Weasley shook his head, a panicked look on his face. "We were just _talking,_ Hermione, and everyone’s scores came up."

Severus stood abruptly, unable to force himself to take any more. "Lovely as meeting Hermione’s _friends_ has been," he said sarcastically, "I am not actually feeling particularly well, and will take my leave for now. I’ll see you all when term starts." He squeezed Hermione’s shoulder briefly—until she actually _said_ so, he was going to assert their relationship, she was the bloody Gryffindor, after all. He wasn’t going to let her just take the coward’s way out and ignore him until he left.

Madam Pomfrey took almost no convincing at the other table that he was ill enough to leave early, and in short order Severus found himself Side-along Apparating to the castle grounds and herded back toward the infirmary.

School would resume in just over a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay. It has admittedly been a very long time since this story has updated, and for that, I apologize. I swear my excuses are good, though! I've had the standard writers block trouble most of us get from time to time, and a plethora of changes in my life this last year. For those of you who did not realize, I have been pregnant. On top of that, I spent most of my second trimester working about fifty hours a week. My Mormor (maternal grandmother) passed away in September, followed by a series of moves by my grandfather. My baby girl was born in March exactly a week before what would have been Mormor's 86th birthday. Recently my fledgling family has also started looking for our first house. So it's been busy.
> 
> On a good note, Stgulik has very generously offered to beta for me at this point-so you will hopefully be seeing a bit more consistency and writing improvement out of me. :-) I cannot thank you all enough for your patience-both in your willingness to wait for my updates and your patience as I am incredibly incredibly far behind in responding to reviews. I cannot promise to always update quickly, but I swear I have not (and will not) abandon this story. Once again, thank you all very much for your well wishes and feedback-I appreciate them more than I can say!
> 
> -Tyche


	18. Severus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
>  **   
>    
>    
>  A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.    
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen:** _(In which Atreus is sorted into Ravenclaw and tempers fly)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 1 September 1996, 09:09 PM_

Severus stood at the back of the Great Hall, attempting to put distance between himself and what felt like far, _far_ too many first years. He eyed the noisy, sticky little crowd with distaste, and tucked his robes closer around his body. Surely he had never been as silly and immature as this lot. One of the nosier boys had asked him point-blank why he was standing with them, but had thankfully not required an answer beyond a disdainful look.

After the disastrous outing to Diagon Alley, Madam Pomfrey had brought him back to Hogwarts for the remaining week of summer hols. His illness had shown almost immediate improvement. By his third day back in the castle, he was feeling completely normal again. The woman had muttered and fussed, running several diagnostic spells, but had finally released him from the hospital wing after a hushed argument with his elder counterpart.

He had not seen a great deal of the professor since returning to Hogwarts. The man had checked in on him the first day, looking rather ragged and worn out himself. He had not stayed long, disappearing when Madam Pomfrey had fussed at him. Since then he had only appeared sporadically, once to stiffly ask if he needed anything further, and once to apparently argue for his release.

When Severus had been ushered to the back of the Great Hall for sorting, he had shot a panicked look at the staff table, only to find the professor missing from his accustomed place. He had then turned to the headmaster, who had merely smiled benignly. He was apparently not very worried that the Sorting Hat might actually do its job and sort him into his honest house. One way or another, the hat must have been rigged to sort him into Ravenclaw.

He had rather expected them to just have him join the Ravenclaw table and explain that he had been sorted privately before the feast. Instead, it appeared that he was going to have to suffer the indignity of perching on that stool in front of everybody. Gods. He hadn't enjoyed that experience when he had been a firstie. It took effort to not visibly squirm at the prospect.

Discreetly grinding his teeth so that he wouldn't fidget, Severus waited impatiently through the sorting for "PRINCE, ATREUS" to be called. When it finally was, curious whispers exploded around him as he made his way to the front of the Hall. Feeling embarrassed and sour, Severus eased himself onto the stool and let Professor McGonagall lower the Sorting Hat onto his head.

"Hmmm…a very keen mind you have," the hat mused aloud. In his thoughts, the hat carried on a different conversation entirely, sounding almost… annoyed. _So, you again. I suppose I should have known it would be one of your sort when they told me I was to put you into Ravenclaw, regardless of what I found in here._

"One of my sort?" Severus whispered the question, barely moving his lips.

"You're ambitious, too, and certainly loyal… tricky, tricky, tricky." The hat continued to dramatically stall aloud.

_You didn't think you were the first student to fumble about with time, did you? Frankly, this guided re-sorting nonsense is getting tiresome. I do know what I am about—it is my very purpose, after all. Are you quite certain you wish to be in Ravenclaw?_

Severus had difficulty keeping his mouth from falling open. There had been other instances of time-travelling students? How extraordinary! He licked his lips; then said, "I'm not the first?"

_I just said as much, did I not? You're not even the first student to travel forward instead of backward. Though I must admit, there haven't been many of those. You lot seem to find it much more difficult. Quickly now, answer the question. You are certain of Ravenclaw?_

"You…you're asking me? Don't we have to do what the headmaster says?"

_It's always a choice. One that shapes lives. Most students don't even realize they are making it, but many of them already have their minds made up. Your headmaster very nearly ended up in Slytherin House._

"So you're saying we _all_ get to choose?"

_Essentially. So is it to be Ravenclaw?_

"It… it's probably for the best, considering." Severus mumbled reluctantly, his thoughts still whirling with the implications of the hat's words. As a result, the shouted "RAVENCLAW" very nearly deafened him and he startled badly enough that a ripple of laughter ran through the hall. Severus felt his cheeks heat, and slid off his perch quickly, nearly dropping the hat in his haste to put it back on the stool behind him.

In contrast, his walk to the Ravenclaw table was slow as he tried to figure out where he could sit. Typically, the sorted first years sat at the front, nearest to the staff table. The older the year, the further back down the line on the table one got to sit. Exchanging your seat for one further back was a Hogwarts student's rite of passage at the beginning of each year. There was no _way_ he was going to sit with the first years, but there was a good chance that there might not be room for him further back with his year mates.

His eyes darted, frantically searching down the table for even the smallest gap where he might squeeze in and force those around him to shift aside a bit. A small motion caught his eye, and to his relief it was a boy with a prefect badge lifting a hand and motioning to an empty place next to him. Relieved, Severus approached and the boy stood to greet him.

"Hullo, I'm Anthony, and that's Padma." The boy gestured to a pretty girl sitting across the table as the two boys sat again. He continued, his voice easy. "We're the sixth year prefects for Ravenclaw. We had a short meeting on the train here with the others and Professors Vector and Saxena mentioned another sixth year would be starting. I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but you'll get the hang of things quickly. The castle really is much smaller after a couple months. Just keep your grades up and your nose clean and you'll be just fine."

"Ravenclaw hasn't produced a single student with a failing grade in any class in twenty-four years," said Padma proudly, and then gave him a direct look. "If you have any trouble, all you need is to say so, and arrangements will be made to help with whatever is needed. Tutoring, shared class notes, extra reading material, study groups—"

"Or even just peace and quiet to get some extra sleep," Anthony interjected. "We take care of our own, and our Head, Professor Flitwick, is very understanding and reasonable. You'll be in far more trouble with the house if you need help and don't speak up, believe me." He gave a perfunctory nod. "It all turns about in the end. You will undoubtedly be good at something that someone else is struggling with and will be asked to help, too."

"Potions and Defence are my best subjects," Severus answered.

"Really?" Anthony smiled. "Brilliant! You see, we've—"

"Oh, shut it, Goldstein. Dumbledore's saying something." A beautiful, dark haired girl on the other side of Anthony cut him off, waving a hand at the front. They listened in polite, bored silence for a moment, and Severus noted idly that his elder version had returned to the table at some point. Then, the headmaster introduced their "new" Potions professor, come out of retirement.

 _"Potions?"_ It seemed the word exploded out of every mouth around him, and reverberated around the hall in waves, followed by hushed conversations in which his name—Snape—featured prominently. Severus stared in stunned surprise at _his_ Potions master, Professor Slughorn, sitting at the staff table. The instructor's presence hadn't really registered with him earlier, but of course he was out of place in this time, when students were used to learning Potions from, well, _him._

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued loudly. "Professor Snape, meanwhile will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts."

The Slytherin table clapped politely as the rest of the hall exploded into the whispers again; one outraged "NO!" could be heard from the Gryffindor table. The professor raised a hand and acknowledged his house's applause, a faint smile twisting his lips.

Feeling pleased that the professor not only seemed happy with this turn of events, but that it was sticking in Potter's craw, Severus turned to the food that had appeared in front of him, and happily helped himself. Their table ate in silence for several minutes; it was nearing nine thirty, and everyone's last meal had been whatever they had brought on the train.

"So, Atreus. You play Quidditch?" He lifted his head from some incredibly delicious chicken dish to see that the beautiful girl on the other side of Anthony had leaned forward around the prefect and was staring at him. She gestured with her fork. "I've been named Captain this year, now that Davies has graduated, and we lost all three of our chasers. You've got the build for it. How are you on a broom?"

Severus shrugged uncomfortably, remembering his tryout for the Slytherin team at the start of third year. He had studied the sport's rules and strategies extensively, and had considered himself something of a shoo-in for the team based on his knowledge. He hadn't quite realized how difficult some of the manoeuvres actually were to accomplish. He understood the mechanics of them and the Quidditch players had always made it look so easy… He had been informed in no uncertain terms by his house that he was not to try out ever again.  
"I'm only an adequate flier at best, to be honest," he said finally. "I'm good at game strategy, though, if you are looking for a fresh take on that sort of thing."

"Hmmmm." Her brows furrowed. "That's a pity. I may take you up on that help with formation coaching, though."

"Don't pay attention to Cho, she's convinced that Quidditch is the only extra-curricular activity worth thinking about. Hogwarts has lots of different clubs, though." Padma reassured. "There's both Chess and Gobstones, an Arithmalete team, the frog choir, a few bands, and Dean Thomas started a running group a couple years back. You'll want to join the DA, too, since you mentioned being good at Defence."

"The DA?" Severus repeated.

"It's a Defence and Duelling club of sorts that Potter and Granger started last year, when we had this really awful professor deny us any practical application practice."

"It's honestly a great Defence study group," Cho chimed in. "Harry is good at explaining and teaching—he's even good with the younger years."

Opposite Cho, a girl with an increasingly sour expression slammed her glass down on the table loudly enough to make everyone near turn to look. She gave their group a scathing glance and grabbed an orange off the table.

Cho tilted her head to the side and said pleadingly, "Marietta, don't go. We'll change the subject."

"No need. I'm full." The girl spun on her heel and marched out of the Great Hall.

Cho winced, then murmured, "She's never properly forgiven me for sticking with the DA."

Severus looked questioningly at Anthony, who shrugged. "The professor we mentioned—the one who wouldn't teach practical application?—was given authority by the Ministry to ban all clubs. The DA was technically against the rules when it was formed, but we were all so desperate to not be helpless in the current climate…" His head wobbled back and forth.

"Anyway," continued Padma, "Granger cursed the sign-up list so that anyone who broke the oath of secrecy would get pretty severely hexed. It was for everyone's protection. Marietta snitched, and got what was coming. She was warned."

Cho retorted. "Professor Umbridge threatened Marietta's little sister; what was she supposed to do? Granger's hex has _permanently_ scarred her. Not even Madam Pomfrey has been able to fix it completely, and Granger refuses to lift the hex. The DA is a good club, Atreus, but I would strongly suggest staying away from Granger. She's bad news. It shouldn't be much of a problem. She's only into famous blokes anyway, like Victor Krum and Harry Potter." Bitterness leaked through Cho's tone.

Severus felt his eyebrows climb, and only barely kept from squirming in his seat. He felt as though he should speak up and defend Hermione. She was, technically, still his girlfriend, wasn't she? The story being told certainly didn't _sound_ like the funny, compassionate girl he'd got to know over the summer. He thought about it for a moment and then had to concede to himself that it _did,_ however, seem more in keeping with her behaviour in Diagon Alley, and with his older self's opinion of her.

He refocused on the conversation in time to hear Padma snapping at Cho. "She may have threatened her family, but Marietta still might have given the rest of us a head's-up before she went and spilled. Under the circumstances, Granger would probably have exempted her from the hex and we could have been sure to start meeting elsewhere. As it was, _fifteen_ students were caught and punished for learning how to defend themselves. _Fifteen,_ Cho. Seven of which were third years or younger! _They_ have permanent scars, too!" She turned and explained to Severus, "Professor Umbridge was fond of making students write lines with a blood quill."

Ah, this must be the same _that woman_ Hermione had mentioned at Grimmauld Place his first night here, the same one that she had tricked into Centaur territory. Severus toyed with his food for a moment, thinking. While the two prefects in his year did not seem to harbor any ill-will towards Hermione, the Quidditch captain a year above them clearly did, as did her friend. He would have to be careful. The headmaster might say that Hermione was the "perfect" person to introduce him to this time, but it was his housemates he would actually be living with. He had been given a second chance at Hogwarts—no one here knew his old reputation. Did he really want to spoil it because of a girl whose friends had already made up their minds to hate him? It might be better to cut his losses and integrate himself with the Ravenclaws around him.

_Isn't that where you went wrong with Lily?_

_Lily._ Severus felt his gut clench. It already felt like a betrayal of sorts that he had moved on to Hermione so quickly after she had—to him at least—died. Barely two months later and he had been kissing Hermione on the roof of his childhood nemesis' home. Severus mechanically chewed his food as he recalled that evening, and the benefits of having Hermione as his girlfriend. First of all, a _girlfriend._ He had never had one before—and it was rather nice just having one. It made him feel… proud of himself, in a strange way. Proud that there was a girl who wanted to be his girlfriend.

More than that, Hermione was soft, warm and smelled really good. She had snuggled against him and it had felt both wonderful and tortuous. She had a sharp mind and perfect little tits that she had actually let him touch through her sweater, and those low little sounds she had made in her throat were…

Severus shook himself, feeling his cheeks heat a bit as he suddenly realized that he had a rather insistent cockstand. Silently, he thanked whichever gods might be listening that the trousers he was wearing under his school robes would keep it from being noticeable when he stood. He chewed his lip a moment, wondering if he could somehow adjust the uncomfortable bulge without people realizing he had his hand in his pants.

Finally hitting on a solution, he turned to Anthony and said, "Look, mind telling me where the loo is?"

The boy swallowed his own food and gestured at the hall doors with his fork. "Yeah. Through the main doors, hang a right and it's the third or fourth door on the left—I'm afraid I forget which, but it's marked."

"Right, thanks." It was the third door, after a maintenance cupboard and the girls' loo, but he wasn't supposed to know that yet. Quickly he made his way out the door and towards the bathroom to make himself a bit more comfortable, but was halted just outside the door by a soft call from behind him.

"Atreus."

The object of his discomfort was twisting her fingers in front of her, her eyes uncertain. She took a hesitant step closer to him. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to see or talk to me—you didn't seem happy to see me last week at Flourish and Blotts, and you were angry when you left the table at lunch."

Severus crossed his arms and gave her a cold look, his erection thankfully going down in the face of this confrontation. "Your friend started our acquaintance by sticking his wand in my face after _you_ told me he wasn't like his bullying father. You couldn't even be arsed to say hello to me. Then you didn't back me up when he was throwing accusations around. You were pissy all lunch and kept acting jealous of the blonde bint, and hardly looked at me. Now my new housemates tell me your taste runs to famous people. Do you expect me to be pleased?"

Hermione's mouth fell open. "I'm sorry it slipped my mind to say hello off the bat, but my boyfriend and my best friend were threatening each other at wand-point after they had promised to try to be nice, and I didn't take Harry's side, either! At lunch Lavender kept baiting me, you saw it, and Ron did _nothing_ to defend me. I was _angry."_  
`  
"That doesn't explain how jealous you were acting. Which is especially strange, since he's apparently not _famous._ Why are you with me, anyway? Were you just bored or something?"

Hermione's fists clenched at her side, and her voice raised shrilly. "Who even _said_ that? It's not like that with me, and it never has been! Why would you even listen to them? You've spent, what, an hour in their company total?"

Severus crossed his arms mutinously. "I was sitting with Anthony, Padma and Cho. Two prefects and the Quidditch captain! They said you like famous people 'like Victor Krum and Harry Potter.' They're my _housemates,_ and they've bloody well been nicer to me than your friends. Which really, doesn't surprise me much! Gryffindors!" he spat. "You're all no different now than the last group was then! Who's this Victor Krum fellow anyway, and why is bloody Potter so bloody interesting?"

"Oh, that's rich. I've never dated Harry, not even once. Which is more than _either_ Padma or Cho can say! I can't believe you're trusting their word over mine! I am not interested in Harry, and I won't ever be. You're the one who's acting jealous!"

 _"That's what Lily said!"_ He shouted it, and Hermione actually stepped back a little from the force of it. Severus took a deep, angry breath and continued bitterly. "Lily said she would never be interested in Potter, but she was." His voice deflated, and to his horror, Severus felt tears prick his eyes. "The professor said." He whispered, more to himself than to Hermione. "Lily _did_ want him. She loved him. She _married_ him, and never spoke to me again!"

"I'm not her." Hermione stepped forward again and held a hand out beseechingly. "Severus. _I'm not her._ I like you. You saw it yourself inside my head. You."

"Who's Victor Krum, Hermione? You're not denying you liked him."

"I… I… no. I did. I did like him. Not at first. I thought he was just a meathead athlete, but he was actually very sweet, and he was interested in _me,_ and no boy had been before and it was just… nice. We're not together now, though. We haven't been for a year."

"You still haven't said who he is, Hermione. Why would Cho call him famous?"

Hermione winced. "Well… he's a Quidditch player. He plays for the Bulgarian team."

Severus stared in disbelief. "You've dated a National Quidditch team player."

The girl in front of him half-shrugged, and said in a small voice, "Not _because_ of that, and anyway I like _you_ now."

Severus ran a hand through his hair, and shook his head. "Look, I like you, too. You're pretty, and you're smart, and I really like kissing you. But… but I just don't see how this is possibly going to work with you hanging out with Potter all the time. I just… I can't do that."

Now tears glittered in Hermione's eyes and spilled down her cheeks. "You're asking me to choose between you and my best friend? Severus, he and Ron were the only two friends I had when I first came here. They were the only two willing to be my friends. I can't choose between you two. Please don't ask me to!"

Severus shook his head again. "Then I guess… I guess this just isn't going to work out. I like you, Hermione, but I can't go through that again, losing you slowly over time to stupid Gryffindors."

 _"I'm_ one of those stupid Gryffindors!"

"No. No you aren't. Not really. Look, let me know if you change your mind. I'm… I'm going to get some pudding or something." Severus forced himself to walk away before he could betray himself and stay despite everything. It was better to cut the ties now, before they broke him. He prided himself on learning from his mistakes, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, our pair seems to be off to a very rocky start. Miscommunications all around. :-(
> 
> Thank you again so much for reading! I really do appreciate the lovely reviews I have received from you guys. :-) I really can't tell you how much it means to me that you are still reading and following me after all this time!


	19. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
>  **   
>    
>    
>  A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.    
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen:** _(In which Hermione as an awful day, followed by a frustrating Defence lesson.)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September, 1996, 10:00 AM_

Hermione spent her first night as a sixth year crying into her pillow. The upper-level students were allowed to use silencing and temperature charms or wards on their beds, and Hermione gratefully did so. The very _last_ thing Hermione wanted to deal with was Parvati or Lavender asking her what was wrong and attempting to comfort her. Neither of her female year-mates might like her that much, and they could often be downright catty, but they would not ignore her if they realised she was weeping.

Hermione honestly couldn't handle that at all right now, especially from Lavender. The day had just been _so awful._ Boarding the Hogwarts Express with the Weasleys had, suddenly and painfully, driven home that her parents were not there to see her off, and never _ever_ would be again. She had felt unbearably lonely and abandoned—which was entirely irrational since she had been the one who sent them away. Regardless, the feeling was there and it had taken all of her willpower to keep from blubbing like a first year on the train as it pulled away.

The train ride had only got worse. She had been looking forward to finding Severus and sorting out the disaster that had been the Diagon Alley excursion. During their lunch that day, she had been so focused on how upset she was with Ron and trying not to strangle Lavender for all her little digs, that she had behaved rather badly towards him. Severus had looked much worse than when she'd seen him last, as well, and to her chagrin she had not been certain of the best way to ask him about it without embarrassing him. She had been rather counting on using the train ride to make up and ask him privately. 

Unfortunately, several searches of the train had revealed that Severus wasn't aboard at all,— so she hadn't been able to make things right, and had spent a good portion of the eleven-hour train ride worrying about him.

After a brief prefect meeting with Professors Vector and Saxena, Hermione had then been forced to listen as Harry and Ron had emphatically accused Draco Malfoy of being a Death Eater, of all things. Their proof had been that Malfoy had shopped in Knockturn Alley and behaved suspiciously. Of course, they knew of Malfoy’s activities because they had _followed him about whilst under an Invisibility cloak._ The irony of that didn't even seem to register with the idiots.

Around lunchtime, Harry and Neville had left, apparently as they were invited to some sort of gathering with the new Potions professor, Horace Slughorn. Lavender had then invited herself in, cosied up to Ron, and Hermione was left with only Luna as for company for almost the rest of the train ride as Ron and Lavender cooed and snogged. It had been both awkward and revolting.

She had never quite been so relieved to get to Hogwarts in any of the previous five years. Yet somehow, her evening had _still_ managed to get worse. Harry had been late to the feast after leaving to spy on Malfoy again, causing her no small amount of worry, and then had made that awful comment about hoping Professor Snape would die.

Severus' sorting had seemed to go smoothly, for the most part, though he didn't look too pleased in general. Her relief at seeing him looking markedly healthier, and the hope that she would be able to work things out with him, had leeched away through supper. He had refused to so much as meet her eyes. She had been forced to follow him when he rose to go to the loo. Not that _anything_ good had come from that.

Why couldn't Severus understand her loyalty to her friends? Especially after the last year: Harry had been so angry and alone; he had been left in the dark, patronised or ignored by all of his adult mentors and had been made a laughing stock by the rest of the Wizarding world. Hermione knew it had worked at his deep-seated insecurities. She had seen the havoc and consequences the year had wreaked. Severus had expected her to look into the haunted, grieving eyes of her best friend in Diagon Alley and pretend not to believe him,— after the lies and similar disbelief of the previous year had nearly driven him mad.

Then Lavender had kept making little digs, trying to assert her claim on Ronald-Bloody-Weasley, and really Hermione couldn't be arsed except that it was so _humiliating._ When she had tried to demonstrate to Lavender that she really wasn't a threat, Severus had been stiff and stand-offish, and Ronald hadn't even tried to call Lavender off.

Then Severus had just delivered his ultimatum: Harry or him. And when Hermione couldn't bring herself to abandon her oldest friend, Severus had just dumped her. Flat. In the middle of dinner. It really was a most horrid ending on top of a truly awful day. Crying into her pillow for several hours hadn't given her any feelings of relief, either, just a rather horrid headache and a bad case of hiccoughs.

Today wasn’t looking any better at all. Her eyes were still a bit puffy and red from the previous night; it was clear she'd had herself a good cry. She stole a glance across the classroom at Severus, who appeared to be absolutely indifferent to her. He was sitting with Padma Patil, who was by far more level-headed and intelligent than her sister Parvati, but equally as pretty. Far prettier than Hermione, with her long, glossy dark hair that never frizzed no matter how awful the humidity got.

Hermione closed her eyes briefly and attempted to calm her breathing and clear her mind. Going into her Tuesday morning Defence class taught by Professor Snape with her emotions rioting would be nothing but a disaster. Honestly, she really should have tried to do this during that awful lunch in Diagon Alley, but she still found it horribly difficult to clear her thoughts once she was already riled up.

The Professor blew into the Defence classroom much as he did the Potions classroom, all billowing robes and arrogant dramatics. The murmuring students fell silent as he swivelled to face them and began the lesson.

"The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal…"

The low, caressing cadence in his voice was _exactly_ the same pitch and tone Severus had used on the roof of Grimmauld Place. She could almost feel his warm breath on her throat, in her ear; and a shiver slid down her spine and went straight to her nipples. Her lips parted slightly, and she shot a glance at Severus. He still wouldn't look at her, and was watching the professor with interest.

"…You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, and indestructible."

Hermione had to keep herself from making any noise; she. She was actually _turned on_ by her professor's loving speech about the Dark Arts. She trusted him—how could she not when he had protected her friends and her so many times, helped her alter her parents' memories, and kept her secrets? Still, getting her knickers wet because of her professor's voice—especially whilst he was talking about _black magic_ — was highly inappropriate.

 

 _It's only because of Severus._ Hermione reassured herself. _It's_ Severus _I like, and they sound the same. It's not like I can help it if his voice makes me want to—NO._ Hermione caught her thoughts just as the professor's gaze settled on her. It was unlikely that he was peeking in her mind, but it would be especially stupid of her to mentally dwell about on her arousal and assume he'd ignore it. He asked a question and she shot her hand in the air to get her mind out of the danger zone, and hopefully remind the professor how boring and annoying her thoughts probably were to him.

It appeared to work, and the class was told to divide into pairs to practice non-verbal magic. She looked to Severus again, but he was already squaring off with Padma. Hermione felt her heart sink, and glanced around to see who might be available. Harry was already with Ron, predictably, and Seamus had paired up with Dean. Neville, with whom she usually ended up partnered with in these sort of class exercises, had even managed to find someone else—Hannah Abbott. In fact, her only choices left were Blaise Zabini and Anthony Goldstein.

She had just started moving towards the Ravenclaw prefect when Zabini loudly called for Goldstein’s attention and wriggled his wand in clear invitation. Anthony Goldstein, who had not noticed her small movement, gamely raised his wand and furrowed his brows in concentration. A glance around confirmed that she had, indeed, been correct the first time: no one was left. The class had an uneven number of students.

"Five points, Miss Granger, for not following directions and finding a partner." The professor's silky voice came sneering over her shoulder, and Hermione winced. It wasn't something she could help, but of _course_ he would take points. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Severus' head twitch in her direction minutely.

"Sir," she began cautiously, "it appears that I shall have to wait my turn for another classmate to be free."

The professor's expression was reminiscent of finding something nasty on his shoe. "I'm afraid, Miss Granger, that we don't have time to wait for you join the rest of the class. You will just have to practice against me." His lips twisted unpleasantly, . "Prepare to defend yourself. _Non verbally."_

"Blimey, I wouldn't want to be _her."_ The whisper came from behind her, and Hermione grimaced to herself as the professor snapped out a point loss against the offender. She didn't feel much like being her, either.

The professor's wand flicked, and pain zinged across her arm as the feeling of nettles brushing across it suddenly exploded. Hermione dropped her wand with a surprised whimper, and flushed as Malfoy's distinctive snicker could be heard behind her. It wasn't a deadly or even seriously debilitating hex, but stinging hexes _did_ hurt. Hermione flexed her fingers reflexively as it the sting faded, and then bent to retrieve her wand.

"Again." The professor's voice was quiet, bored.

Hermione had barely lifted her wand when the feeling of the invisible nettles came back, this time blossoming in her left shoulder. She resisted the urge to try to shake the feeling out and instead gripped her wand tighter, concentrating on a shielding spell.

"Again." Her knee. "Again." Her right shoulder this time. _"Again."_ The hex struck her in the abdomen this time, right in the still tender place where Dolohov's curse had ripped through her almost three months earlier. Hermione couldn't stop her cry of pain this time, and she doubled over.

 _"Concentrate,_ Miss Granger!" The professor nearly shouted it, and Hermione desperately tried to focus, even as her vision blurred with tears. His wand flicked and Harry shouted, echoing a quieter voice; suddenly, a thick, layered shield was between her and the professor. The force of it actually made him take several staggering steps into a desk.

He angrily spun away from her, snarling, "Ten points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for interfering with another student's lesson, and another fifteen from Gryffindor for shouting. I did say _non-verbal_ spells, did I not, Potter?"

Hermione glanced up, almost pathetically grateful that Severus at least didn't seem to hate her enough that he had left her entirely to the mercy of the professor. Severus ignored her glance, and pursed his lips tightly before he curtly nodded and turned back to Padma.

Harry, on the other hand, ignored nothing, and glared petulantly. "Yes."

"Yes, _Sir."_ Professor Snape's voice was dangerously quiet.

"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor."

Hermione felt a gasp rip from her throat along with several others. Had Harry gone _mad?_

"Detention, Potter. Saturday night, my office. I not take cheek from anyone, Potter… not even 'the Chosen One.'"

He then turned and looked snarled at his teenaged self. with a snarled, "As for _you,_ Prince. You will pay attention to your _own_ classwork—as you all should." The professor's voice was icy as he addressed the class at large, . "Are any of you foolish enough to think that if you are in a duel, your opponent will politely wait after each hex until you feel better before incapacitating you? If Miss Granger does not feel that she can learn to defend herself against the dark arts non-verbally, perhaps she should drop this class." His attention returned to Hermione. "Is that the case, Miss Granger?"

Hermione swallowed and stood, her face burning. "No, sir." She lifted her wand and focused on it. Magic was a matter of will, words were but a helpful way to keep oneself focused on it. Most adults could do at least some non-verbal magic. Some of the more powerful witches and wizards, she had heard, didn't even need the wand implement. All she had to do was _focus._

His wand twitched in her direction, and the hex landed on her wand arm again. Grimly she tightened her hold on her wand, and concentrated, not even hearing his "Again." This time, like the tumblers of a lock clicking into place, her mind suddenly latched onto how it worked. A non-verbal shield blossomed between them, and Hermione couldn't help but grin at it, and then at her instructor.

Professor Snape appeared to be indifferent, and this time gave no warning as his wand flicked in her direction. She raised her shield again, blocking his attack neatly, and he gave one short nod. "You will practice against Abbott, now." He informed her, and then turned on his boot heel to face Neville with his trademark sneer. "Longbottom, defend yourself!"

Neville, quite predictably, went pale and looked like he might be sick, but dutifully raised his wand into a defensive stance.

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September 1996, 12:06 PM_

Hermione left class feeling mentally exhausted. Non-verbal spells were a lot more difficult than she had expected. It was draining to continue casting non-verbally, over and over, even after she had understood how to do it.

An hour into their lesson the Professor told everyone to switch positions between attacking and defending, and find a new partner again.  
Hermione ended up attacking whilst Harry defended, and by the end of the lesson she couldn't help but feel awful as Harry's countenance grew darker and darker as every jinx she threw his way landed.  
By the time class had ended he still hadn't gotten it down, and Hermione had only failed twice after her initial success. Of course, every time her jinxes had landed, Draco and his friends had snickered, and Harry had only grown more frustrated.

He stomped from the room at the end of class, his right fist tight around his wand handle. Ron gave her a scathing look as he too, passed, and hissed at her, "Oi, you couldn't have eased up a _bit,_ Hermione?"

Hermione answered, "I have to practice, too, and Harry won't learn if no one forces him to try." 

He just shook his head and left, leaving Hermione standing behind him. Clearly she wouldn't be welcome with them at lunch, next. Miserable, she walked slowly back to where she had stowed her bag as the other students filed out of the classroom.

Picking it up, she glanced at the professor, who was now at his own desk, writing something. "Thank you, sir", she said quietly. He didn't look up, but his writing paused briefly as she left the room.

She had only barely cleared the door frame when a voice came from beside her, from beside the door frame.  
"You weren't easy on Potter."  
Hermione turned to face Severus, uncertain if she was able to summon the energy to continue their fight. "No." ,she replied. "He wouldn't learn anything that way, and I certainly wouldn't get any better at non-verbal spells. I wasn't doing anything that would hurt him."

"He was a disrespectful arse to the professor, just like his father."

Hermione sighed, . "Yes. He was. I know you won't believe me, but honestly, he isn't usually that bad."

Severus proved her right by snorting in disbelief, and turned to leave.  
"Atreus!" Hermione called after him. Like the professor in the classroom, he didn't look at her, but he did pause. Unable to stop herself, Hermione asked, "Why _did_ you shield me in there?"

Severus' shoulders hunched briefly, as if embarrassed that she had noticed. "I—I don't know." ," He he stammered. "I really just… I shouldn't have." He started walking away down the hallway.

"Thank you, anyway. Even if you shouldn't have." Hermione said, uncertain if he could hear her.

He froze again, and then furiously turned around and stomped back to her. "Why are you even talking to me, anyway? Aren't you supposed to hate me or something now?"

"Hate you?"

"You're in Gryffindor, and friends with Potter, on top of which, I broke up with you yesterday. So why aren't you trying to hex me in the hall?"

"Atreus…" Hermione sighed again in tired frustration. "That isn’t something I really _do._ Even if you don't want to be with me anymore, I'd still like to try to be your friend. We have a lot in common, remember? Is it really necessary to write the whole summer off because we had a bad day?"

"Friends." He shook his head as if in disbelief, but his cheeks had heated slightly. "Why are you friends with Potter, anyway? He's an arse."

"Because… because before I came to Hogwarts, I didn't really have any friends. I was weird, bossy, nerdy, and plain-looking, and strange things kept happening around me. When I got to Hogwarts, I thought everything would change. I thought this place would be full of people like me, and I'd fit in and have lots of friends.

"Only I didn't. Nothing changed at all. No one liked me at Hogwarts, either." Hermione shrugged self-consciously. "I was just as weird and lonely and singled out here. Then… then there was this thing with a mountain troll, and afterwards, Harry and Ron were my friends. Not just so they could copy my homework, but really my friends, and Harry was—is—one of the most popular boys in the school. But he chose to be my friend. I'm not sure I'm explaining this terribly well, or if you can really even relate to what I'm talking about."

Hermione waved a frustrated hand, and started talking faster, rushing to get her words out before he decided to leave. "The thing is, they were the only two willing to be friends with me, and we have been through _hell_ together. Last year, Harry tried to tell the world that You-Know-Who was back, but no one believed him. They turned him into a laughingstock and the entire Wizarding world thought he was delusional and crazy, even after a boy had been _killed._ He was so angry all the time some people were wondering if he really was going mad.

"Then… then you wanted me, one of the few people he still trusts completely, to tell him I didn't believe him. You wanted me to call him a liar when I _knew_ he was telling the truth. Only I knew I couldn't actually tell him the truth, and Ron was being such a prat, and… haven't you ever got mad and said or behaved in a way you wish you hadn't? I'm _sorry."_ Hermione sucked in a deep breath, not certain what else she could say.

Severus didn't answer her. He merely looked at her, white-faced, his posture stiff. "I… I have to go. It's lunchtime."

Hermione felt herself deflate a little. "Yeah… yeah, okay. I'll see you around."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Once again I find myself absolutely humbled and thankful for all of you-it continues to astound me how kind everyone has been and how many people have taken the time to comment (good or bad). You guys are really the best. Really. I do apologise that I have not manage to respond to some of you, yet-it has been very busy! I can't tell you enough how wonderful and uplifting it is to receive your reviews, however, and I promise that I will get back to you shortly! In the meantime, please accept a shiny new chapter as a peace offering. :-)
> 
> I would also like to take a moment to shower love and gratitude on Shinigamioni and Stgulik, who both stepped up on relatively short notice to take on the monumental task of alpha and betaing this chapter, as well as to BSC_AG, who has been with me on this adventure since before chapter one was started. I make a lot of mistakes, and I am extremely blessed to have people willing to red ink my work before people see it.


	20. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen:** _(In which there is a reconciliation in the library, and Hermione attempts to research Damian Vector.)_

_  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September 1996, 12:44 PM_

_"Haven't you ever got mad and said or behaved in a way you wish you hadn't? I'm_ sorry. _"_ Her words rolled around in his mind throughout lunch, haunting him. He ate mechanically, not really paying attention to what he was eating or the other students around him. Which was just as well, really, since most of them were not that interested in paying attention to him.

He was now, as he had always been, a bit too _everything._ He had expected a bit more acceptance from Ravenclaw, considering what their house stood for. It turned out they viewed scholarly dedication and intelligence the basic requirements of their house, but the social ladder still hinged, for the most part, on one's level of attractiveness and charisma.

Coming down the stairs from the dorms, he had overheard a girl in the common room this morning talking about how he was "just as greasy" as his uncle. The other girl had agreed that he wasn't very attractive, and that he gave her "the creeps."

Not that he cared. Because he didn't.

Severus cut the pork in front of him into precise cubes, taking a level of odd comfort in the uniform shape and slicing motion. It was like cutting potion components. He noticed Marietta staring at his motions with an odd expression on her face, as if she were wondering if he had become unhinged. He decided not to care and continued to cut even little cubes. It was something to focus on that wasn't Hermione's damning parting words.

Yes, he had been angry and blurted something he wished he hadn't. It had _destroyed_ his friendship with Lily, even though he had turned himself into a laughingstock to try to apologise. Somehow, the exact words had tumbled out of Hermione's mouth to make him wonder if he had made the right decision. It was almost like she knew.  
A suspicious sort of person might suspect someone had told her. Severus shot a flinty look from the corner of his eyes to the head table. His elder version was looking at the scarf –draped professor sitting to his right with distaste as she actually dropped a forkful of mushy peas into her wine goblet.

Severus scowled at his evenly diced pork. No, his elder self didn't even seem to like Hermione. The day he had called Lily a Mudblood was one of his most embarrassing regrets. His adult self would not have shared that with her. The truth was that perhaps he and Hermione were more alike than he would have preferred to admit. He, too, had believed that Hogwarts would give him a place to fit in, and he, too, had been disappointed on that front.

Strangely enough, even after their altercations, she still wanted to be _friends._ He supposed he could relate to that. Idly he wondered if she wanted it enough that she would be willing to sleep outside his dorm as he had with Lily, and then felt a bit guilty for wanting that. Surreptitiously, he glanced at her, a table over. She was sitting hunched over her plate next to the redheaded girl, chewing her own food and…reading. He tried not to smile as he realized she had a book flat on the table where her plate should be, and that her actual lunch had been shoved to the vicinity of where one's glass customarily went.

Potter and Weasley appeared to be pointedly ignoring her. Severus sent a small jinx towards Potter, more to see if he could get away with it than anything else. It was the equivalent of flicking his ear, and the other boy rubbed it with a small grimace, then glared at _Hermione._ Oops. He hadn't meant to shift the blame to her.  
As if she could hear him thinking about her, she looked up suddenly, and their eyes locked. Severus bore the connection for a moment, then uneasily, he gathered his things to go, leaving what was left of his dinner behind. He had a free period next; some quiet time in the library was exactly what was needed to sort his thoughts. 

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September 1996, 1:06 PM_

Breezy chatter that only barely met the volume expectation of the library suddenly assailed Severus, and he glanced up from his Arithmancy textbook in annoyance. His glance was met with books _thunking_ down across from him. In short order the chatty Weasley girl and her blonde friend—from his own house he saw—were seated at his table.  
He cleared his throat and the blonde fastened her gaze on him expectantly. She was both familiar and not. He had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that they'd met before, but he couldn't remember where. She smiled at him and opened a potions book, flipping several pages in.

"What do you want?" Severus asked, an edge in his voice. He noticed that his shoulders were hunched defensively, and straightened them.

The redhead—Ginny, that was her name—looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean? You're going out with one of our best friends, and Luna's in your house and my year. We always sit at Hermione's table, and you said you were good at potions. I need help with the— "

"This isn't Hermione's table. It's _my_ table." Severus cut off her prattling response.

"Well it's not her _usual_ table, but why wouldn't she sit with you?"

"Because we're _not_ going out." Severus replied shortly.

The blonde continued to read placidly, mouthing the Latin incantations to herself as she came across them.

“Wait. You…you’re not?” Ginny seemed dumbfounded. “Hermione said you were only _yesterday._ Ugh, it’s _so_ hard to keep up with these things, here.” Ginny started piling up her books quickly and stuffing them in her bag. “C’mon Luna. Look, no offence, Prince, but we can’t be seen at your table now.” Ginny gave him an apologetic grimace. “Hermione’s already in trouble with Harry and my brother, and she’s not exactly close with the girls in her year. _We’re_ her best friends, and we kind of have to be on her side, even if we don’t know what happened.” She shrugged. “Luna?”

The blonde glanced up at her friend, and then over at Severus. “I think I will stay,” she said softly. “Class starts in a few minutes, anyway.”

Ginny nodded, and quickly walked over to the next table, unpacking her things again with quick efficiency. In moments she was lounging in a chair at the other table as if she had always been there.

Luna returned to her Charms book, apparently unconcerned with the world around her and what social cues might or might not pertain to her. That was…refreshing, honestly. It was a bit unfortunate she had Charms in just a bit. Severus had a free period next, followed by Potions, and her presence at the table was oddly peaceful instead of disturbing.

Shaking his head, Severus pulled out his sixth-year Potions book, checked the inside to see if it had changed in the last twenty years and frowned at it in disappointment. He had been looking forward to learning Potions from himself, but it seemed that fate had decreed that his Potions education was firmly in the hands of Slughorn. Severus sighed, and started to read ahead, going over the potions and jotting notes about various components he had not previously worked with, intending to look them up and their properties individually.

Severus had been finding subtle ways to improve on most of the potions in the textbooks for the last couple of years. It would have been nice to have been challenged. Professor Slughorn taught students to follow potion recipes without actually explaining what they did and how they reacted--it was the primary reason he had been looking forward to learning from himself instead.

If a students didn’t learn the _theory_ how could they possibly understand whether they were making a mistake, or how to improve on it? That wasn’t learning Potions—that was learning how to follow directions. Admittedly, that was a lesson more people could use, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of learning the subtle nuances of Potions.

Absently, Severus licked a finger and turned the page, barely noticing when Luna packed her things and left. The noise level elevated in the background as students came and went between classes, and then settled again.

Or almost. There was a group to his left being rather rowdy for a library; they were clearly there to socialise and flirt amongst themselves instead of actually use the library. Severus glanced up at them in annoyance just in time to see Madam Pince descend on them, her lips pinched with upset.

“I am fairly certain that this is _not_ your common room. I do hope you five have a note from a Professor giving you permission to be here instead of whichever class you are currently assigned to?”

“We’ve a note from Professor Babbling,” one of the girls explained, presenting a piece of parchment. “We are ‘comparing and contrasting the fundamental differences between Chinese and Egyptian glyphs.’” Her expression was imperious, and one of the larger boys snorted with laughter.

Madam Pince gave the note she now held a look of extreme distrust, to the table’s amusement, and snapped, “Do remember that this is a library, and if you don’t keep the noise level to a minimum I will be sure to inform Professor Babbling that you will not be allowed back during her class time.”

To the woman’s disapproval, the bigger boy snorted in laughter again, ribbing the current generation’s Malfoy with an elbow. The blond gave his friend a disdainful look, and obediently mouthed platitudes at the librarian. Madam Pince stalked off, and he table dissolved into soft laughter in her wake.

Severus suddenly found himself making eye contact with Malfoy, and the other boy gave him a small smile. This was the son of his mentor and Narcissa Black; the boy who was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Britain. Just because his father was a follower of Lord Voldemort didn’t mean that either of them were _bad,_ Severus reasoned. After all, _Severus_ had been trying to do the same. Lord Voldemort had killed Lily, not the Malfoys. Severus smirked back at the boy in silent agreement that they could be friends.

Malfoy darted his gaze to Severus’ other side, where one table over, Hermione Granger had at some point planted herself without his noticing, still deeply engrossed in the book she had been reading at lunchtime. She wasn’t doing anything especially strange, in his opinion.

Severus met Malfoy’s eyes again and shrugged minutely. The boy responded by waggling his brows at Severus and standing, meandering over to the section of shelves between Severus and Hermione. The girl with the note—Parkinson, he remembered from Defence class—stood as well, and followed him.

The two pretended to study the shelves for a short while before the girl suddenly said loudly, “Why Granger, the Gold Book? How…utterly quaint! Are you reading that to try to understand your betters, or are you stupid enough to try to find your own family in there?”

The Gold Book, more appropriately titled _Liber Sanguinis Britanniae,_ was the authoritative genealogical record of the magical families in Britain. Centuries old and magically updated as births and deaths occurred, the book was traditionally bound in dazzling gold leaf—giving rise to being called the Gold Book. The older the wizarding family, the further back in the book it and its decedents were listed.

Malfoy laughed with Parkinson and added, “Maybe she’s hoping she’s adopted. Or maybe she’s looking for an old family to try to marry into. She wouldn’t be the first Mudblood to harbour delusions that maybe one of them (us?) would want to claim her.” The false pity in his voice was palpable.

Severus felt his heart stop at that epithet—Mudblood. Without realizing it, he found himself standing, moving over to where the altercation was occurring. He wasn’t entirely positive what he was going to do yet, but merely sitting and listening was no longer an option.

Unmindful of his approach, Parkinson grabbed the book off the table, away from Hermione. “Really, you shouldn’t be touching this. It doesn’t concern you at all. You should just stick to the boring introduction books to Wizarding culture for Mudbloods like you. You know,” she said thoughtfully, “like _Hogwarts, a History.”_

The whole group snickered, and Hermione’s chin jutted out stubbornly, and she held out her hand toward the Gold Book. “Give it back, Parkinson.”

“Or what?” The girl asked, her tone bored.

“Maybe she’ll take points—oh wait, she can’t from a fellow Prefect.” Malfoy answered. “Or, I know, she’ll write a letter to her _mummy.”_

“Oh, do shut it, Malfoy. We all know you’re the one most likely to pen a note to mummy when things don’t go your way,” Hermione shot back crossly.

“And my family would actually be able to do something about it,” Malfoy answered, apparently undisturbed. “It’s because _our_ name _is_ in the Gold Book. Show her, Parkinson. About…two-thirds of the way back, I believe. Page 952.”

The girl obediently started flipping through the book, and Hermione muttered, “You have the page number _memorised?”_

“All wizards and witches of good breeding do, Granger.” The girl responded coolly. “It is, after all, the authority on who is worth knowing and who isn’t. _My_ family starts on page 712. A girl like you wouldn’t know that, though, would you? It’s rather like expecting a foundling to understand that eating with your fingers is uncouth.” Parkinson gave Hermione an ugly smile. “Like that Weasley boy you’ve been panting after--don’t worry, Granger. He may eventually be willing to overlook the mud.”

Malfoy actually brayed in laughter at that, and Severus found himself interjecting, “Don’t call her that.”

All three turned to look at him, the Slytherins surprised, and Hermione expressionless. Severus found himself reiterating, “Don’t ever, ever use that word in my hearing again. _Ever.”_

Malfoy gave him a hooded look and said softly, “I would have expected that as a Prince, even an illegitimate one, you would understand that there is a certain order of classes, and what is worth defending and what…” he pause to sneer at Hermione, “isn’t. Especially since your uncle is so esteemed in House Slytherin and by my family.”

Severus straightened and looked the other boy directly in the eyes, for the first time refusing to be cowed by the name. “And I would also expect that a scion of a family so esteemed as the _Malfoys_ would understand that using such language in public and the presence of ladies is uncouth.” Severus shot back. “It’s rather like inviting a respected businessman to dine, only to find out he thinks nothing of picking his nose and stuffing his pockets with bread rolls for later."

Malfoy’s face became ugly, and he lashed out suddenly with an arm, sending Hermione’s book bag and most of its contents sprawling all over the floor. “Oh, dear me, _Miss Granger._ It seems you’ve dropped your things again. Perhaps _Prince_ here will pick them up for you. Don’t forget to tip him afterwards, it’s only polite.”

Parkinson laughed derisively again. She dropped the Gold Book with a heavy thud to the floor with the rest of Hermione’s things, and the two went back to their table.

Hermione gave an annoyed sigh and dropped to the floor, starting to gather her things. “It took almost an _hour_ to get all of this organised this morning,” she grumbled under her breath, then swore softly as she discovered that one of her ink bottles had chipped in the fall, springing a small leak.

Hesitantly, Severus dropped to the ground next to her, and started to help her as she swished her wand at the bottle to repair it. They worked in silence together for a moment before Hermione said quietly, “Thank you for saying that.”

He nodded, uncertain how to proceed and settled for smoothing out the slightly crumpled pages of the Gold Book.

“I...I don’t like Ron like that. Like he was saying. I know you probably don’t believe me after Diagon Alley, but I really don’t.” She looked at him nervously and added, “Just so you know.”

He nodded again, still not sure what to say.

Hermione picked up a few more of her pages, and then whispered, “Why did you defend me again? I thought you were going to stop after this morning. That’s why Malfoy did it, you know. He was testing you.”

“I don’t like bullies,” Severus answered simply, “and I have.”

Hermione’s confusion was plain. “You have what?”

“I have said or done something before when I was angry that I regretted after.”

Her expression cleared, and she said cautiously, “So, you think we can be friends then?”

He paused a moment, and then nodded. “I...yes. Friends. I’m not hanging out with Potter, though.” He gave her a sharp look.

She nodded back. “That’s fair enough, I suppose.”

He picked up the Gold Book and handed it to her. “What _were_ you looking up in this?”

She shrugged and shyly, “Well, if _I_ were the sort to be curious about the new student claiming to be a member of the Prince family, this is the first place I’d look to verify. I was planning to take it to Professor Dumbledore this morning for safekeeping, but then I got a bit sidetracked.”

Severus blinked in surprise. “You were protecting _me?”_

“There’s no need to sound so surprised,” Hermione said grumpily. “I’m just being thorough. Besides, like I said, I got a bit sidetracked.” She leaned in closer to him and he followed suit, both forgetting that they were still on the floor.

She was close enough that he could smell her shampoo, the slight scent of cinnamon and oranges reminding him of their date on the roof of Grimmauld Place. She had tasted of oranges, then. He was so distracted by it, he nearly missed the importance of her next words.

“I thought since I had this, it would be a good opportunity to look up the Vector family.”

Once her words sank in, Severus felt his eyes widen. “And…?”

“And there _is_ no Damian Vector. At least not in almost two hundred years. The last Damian Vector recorded in the Gold Book was born in 1814 and died in 1824—only ten years later.”

“So _our_ Damian Vector is lying.”

“It seems so. Except, he _is_ a time traveller and an Unspeakable. We saw it ourselves.”

“Well sure, but if he was born in 1814 he’d be…182! At _least._ More if he’s been using that Time-Turner a lot. That’s old even by Wizarding standards—that’s older than Professor Dumbledore.”

Hermione nodded. “It’s common knowledge that the Philosopher's Stone exists, and you’ve already proven it’s possible to move _forward_ in time, so maybe he can, too. It’s not really _impossible_ that it’s the same person. Who knows what Unspeakables can do? Here’s the other thing that’s weird.” She flipped through the book until she found the entry again and showed it to him. “Damian Vector, born 1814, died 1824, slain by ‘Egyptian magicks moste foul at the _British Museum.’”_

“So..?” Severus gave her a confused look. “Why is that important?”

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. The other week, at Diagon Alley, I ran into Professor Vector at the apothecary. She knows our Damian Vector, too. She says he’s a ‘cousin of sorts,’ and she assumed I’d met him _in the British Museum.”_

Severus took a deep breath through his nose. “Well…it’s a weird coincidence, but that doesn’t really _prove_ anything except that whoever he is, Professor Vector knows about it and is telling the same story he is.”

“He has to know how easy it is to look up his name in this book. So either he’s being deliberately insulting by saying his name is Damian Vector, deliberately confusing or he _really really_ is and he finds it funny.”

The two of them were silent for a moment, thinking about it. Their quiet moment was suddenly interrupted by a loud, obnoxious shout.

“KISSY, KISSY UNDER THE TABLE! LITTLE PRINCY AND HIS MISSY!” The screech was punctuated by several loud raspberry noises.

Severus and Hermione jerked apart so quickly, he nearly _did_ hit his head on the table. The two of them had completely forgotten they were still sitting on the floor, hunched intimately over the book.

“PEEVES,” Hermione shouted, _“Get out!”_

“Alright that’s enough. All of you get out!” Madam Pince swept an arm at the tables. “This is a _library,_ not a place to giggle and canoodle.

“We weren’t—” Hermione started, only to be cut off.

“I don’t care. Out, all of you. Shoo!”“Meet me in my old room,” Severus said. “I have an idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Surprise I finished a chapter (at last), and Happy Valentines Day to all of you! My deepest gratitude to Stuglik for beta reading this not once, but twice! My thanks also to all of you, still faithfully reading after all this time. It means so much to me that you haven't given up! As always seems to be the case, I am woefully behind in responding to my wonderful reviewers. I am very very sorry, and will do my very best to catch up soon. I hope you all realize just how much I truly adore and appreciate them. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> I have good news: this chapter marks the half-way mark! I'm anticipating this story to end up with a total of 39 chapters, so we are officially half-way there!


	21. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty :** _(In which Severus and Hermione make plans for future planning)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September 1996, 1:30 PM_

Severus made his way back towards the room that had housed him briefly at the end of the previous year, wondering if the wards would still recognise his magical signature. It would certainly be convenient to have the equivalent of his own private suite of rooms within Hogwarts, away from everyone else. The castle was not small by any standard, but it could certainly feel that way when one was sharing it with close to a thousand other people in the middle of a Scottish January.

At this time of day the staff wing was deserted, the teachers all most likely in class or their various offices. Technically, the whole wing off the third floor corridor was restricted except in cases of emergency; Severus could actually get himself in a good deal of trouble if he was caught intruding upon the personal space of the professors. The risk was worth it, however, if it meant that he had a warded set of rooms to himself.

To his delight, the door opened easily under his fingers, admitting him into "his" sitting room. Severus halted just inside the door, frowning. The room was…different. Briefly, he wondered if he had been admitted into the wrong suite. The modern look of the sitting room had vanished, plastered walls and ornate ceiling fan included, leaving behind only the stone walls prevalent throughout most of the castle. The furnishings remained the same, but the small bookcase now only held one book instead of nine.

Closer inspection revealed that it was _Her Dark Wizard's Secret._ That was…odd. It made him feel uneasy, not knowing who had changed the rooms and why that person would have removed all the books save for the lurid romance. Perhaps someone was trying to send him a message of some kind? Or perhaps it was the castle itself.

Restlessly, he fidgeted, waiting for Hermione to appear. She shouldn't have been too far behind him, even though she had more things to pack up and had wanted to check books out first. His impatient thoughts were interrupted by a hesitant knock on the door. Swiftly, Severus opened it before she got caught in the hallway and ushered her in.

Hermione frowned at the space around her, and commented, "The room has changed."

Severus nodded. "Yes, I noticed, too. I haven't been able to figure out why. I think it might have been the castle itself?" He looked to see what she thought of this opinion.

She nodded slowly. "It wouldn’t be the first time that rooms have changed or moved around at Hogwarts.” She, too, inspected the bookcase, and smirked at him. “The castle apparently left you your book."

"Only _Divine Comedy_ was mine, and you know it," he protested. “I packed that one up with my things when I left this room.”

"Oh _really,_ if all the other books that weren’t yours have been cleared out, then why was _Her Dark Wizard's Secret_ left behind?"

Severus gave her a grumpy look. "I don't know."

Hermione stepped daringly close and whispered teasingly, "So you didn't get overly…attached to that one? Not even to page 215?"

The blatant reference to the graphically described oral sex, delivered in her husky alto, made him fight not to squirm. "No," he lied. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He raised his brows at her. "Do you talk to all of your _friends_ this way?" he said teasingly.

Hermione’s expression immediately went flat and she stepped back a little. "You're right. I shouldn't be trying to flirt when you've made it clear you're not interested in that—in me—anymore." She shrugged a little self-consciously, and then added quietly, “I’m sorry.” She glanced around them at the room again, clearly embarrassed. “You said you had an idea.”

He hadn’t meant to upset her, only to tease and flirt back just a little. He wasn't trying to resume their previous relationship--at least not right away. The bubble they had lived in at Grimmauld Place was a very different world from Hogwarts during the school year. The teeming, hormonal social structure of boarding school introduced any number of variables that could upset their fragile relationship. But friends could still tease each other and mildly flirt, couldn’t they?

He had evidently not come across as teasing, however, and once more Severus found himself wishing he were a little more socially adept. He really wasn’t sure how to reassure her at this point without making an arse out of himself or giving the wrong impression, so instead, he just cleared his throat.

“Yes. I wasn’t sure if I still had access to this room. Since I do, we might as well make the most of it. It’s got all the space and privacy we need to do any research...or school stuff…” his voice trailed off at her eager expression.

“So you’re saying you don’t mind if I study here with you?” Hermione asked, pleased.

Severus felt something inside himself loosen a little. Hermione still wanted to be with him, be his friend. She wasn't going to uncomfortably excuse herself, or decide his awkward handling of her teasing was too embarrassing. She hadn't decided _he_ was too embarrassing. Feeling lighter, he told her seriously, "I liked being with you at Grimmauld Place, and you had good O.W.L. scores. You _did_ say that first night that you'd be willing to be my study partner." Shrugging a little, he added, "If we’re going to look into Vector and researching time travel or...whatever...it’s not a bad idea to have a secure place to keep the information. It's quite a bit closer to the teachers than I'm generally comfortable with, but at least we'd know it will keep anyone else out.”

Hermione nodded and fiddled with one of her curls as she thought. "I think the obvious place to start if we’re going to find out more about Damian Vector—or whoever he is—is the British Museum. Professor Vector assumed he and I met there, so he must be there on a regular basis."

"We won’t be able to do that until Christmas, though. In the meantime, I’d like to do more in-depth research on some of the things we'll be covering this year. I've been reading ahead, and in Potions we've got a whole term dedicated to antidotes, but Slughorn doesn't really teach theory well, which is _imperative_ if you ever actually need to brew an antidote of some kind. In Defence we'll be focusing on non-verbal magic, _Patronuses_ and other high-level introspective light spells and basic healing spells.

"That's rather a lot to cover, and the library has _tonnes_ of supplementary reading. Not to mention, we'll need to do our own practice runs and experimenting here with any Potions and spells, and—what?" Severus broke off nervously, suddenly aware that Hermione was staring at him with a strange expression. _Fuck._ His cheeks heated slightly as he realised just _how_ enthusiastic and animated he had been getting about schoolwork. No doubt he was being too intense again.

There was silence for a short moment, and then a small smile grew across her face. "Nothing," she answered softly. "It's just that...well, I don't think I've ever had a friend before who _wanted_ to use their free time to study. Usually they're trying to drag me off to the Quidditch pitch or Hogsmeade." Her smile grew until she was positively beaming. "It's just nice, that's all. I'm _really_ looking forward to working with you this year." She blushed lightly, and started playing with one of her curls again.

Severus felt his heart skip a beat and he had to remind himself he wasn't interested in her. Not right now, at least. A part of him howled that there was a girl interested in him— _him,_ the oily, awkward boffin—and that wasn't an opportunity to put off, even if he wasn't certain how a relationship between them would work at Hogwarts. _She's intelligent, too...What if she changes her mind?_ His nasty inner voice questioned.

Severus brushed the thought aside, determined not to let his self-consciousness show. Uncertain how to best answer her, he smiled slightly instead, and turned back to his bookbag. He retrieved the Sixth Year Potions textbook he had been looking at in the Library, and flipped through until he got to the first class assignment on page ten. "We have Potions next. The first one in the book is _Draught of the Living Death._ I was hoping to research it a bit further before class. I've made a few notes..."

Hermione brightened, and said eagerly, "It's rather fascinating, but not the sort of potion you'd expect to be taught to sixteen-year-olds." Her voice took on a lecturing tone worthy of any professor. "It was initially called the 'Coward's Concoction' because Sir Maynard Mortimer invented it in order to bypass his duty to go to war. He gave himself the appearance of a deathly illness to get out of it, but Lady Mortimer was ashamed and turned on him, and he was executed.”

Hermione happily babbled on, oblivious to the amused and slightly incredulous look Severus was giving her. "Apparently it slows everything down so that a person isn't even alive at first glance—the pulse is hardly felt, the skin chills—the sleeper might take a breath only once in the hour! You'll eventually die if not given the antidote. The name was changed when Healers discovered how useful it was in _their_ field. Sedation for complicated healings, or to slow down the effects of an accidental poisoning, et cetera."

Severus cleared his throat and said mildly, "I see you like to research, too. Do you also go through step by step to find out why things react with each other? Or experiment to see if you can make that reaction work better or faster?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I've got a fairly solid base knowledge of the more common components and potions, but I don't really experiment or stray from the textbook. Professor Snape rather discourages that sort of tampering, and if it's worked well for years…" she trailed off at his frown. "What?"

Severus hunched his shoulders and turned away, pacing a few steps and back again before answering. "I'm just surprised, that's all. I would have expected him...me...to encourage a better understanding, for students to challenge the expected a bit more."

Hermione smiled wryly. "Perhaps he might, if he had a bit less on his mind. Not all students are suited to Potions like you are, either. I am willing to bet that many of them only half follow what instructions there are, anyway. Just dump it all in and stir, you know? I think Professor Snape would prefer to not encourage experimentation on top of that."

Severus shook his head and gestured emphatically. "No, that's...No. Definitely not. Bloody idiots would kill themselves, and probably each other."

"Not all of them," she protested. "We're not all really that bad. Ron's older brothers actually experiment with potions quite a bit--they left school last year and just opened a joke shop over the summer in Diagon Alley." Her chin tilted and she said, a little snottily, "Mind, I can't say I approve of _everything_ they've come up with, but they have come up with some very brilliant ideas..." She smiled, her voice trailing off as she got lost in her reminiscing.

Severus felt a twinge of jealousy, and wondered which older brother with "brilliant ideas" she might be thinking of. He cleared his throat pointedly, and Hermione's attention snapped back to him, her cheeks blushing a deep red. "Sorry. Erm, they overheard me say as much about their Patented Daydream Charm, and gave me one for free." She sighed again wistfully, "It really _was_ brilliant." Hermione shook herself. "We should work out a schedule, and add it to my timetable."

Severus blinked, nonplussed. "Pardon?"

Hermione rummaged through her bag and pulled out a large piece of folded parchment that turned out to be a surprisingly detailed schedule of her month. Severus felt his mouth open slightly in astonishment as she continued to unfold it and it grew to a rather absurd size. Hermione had apparently planned out her entire life in ten minute intervals and colour coded them by class and activity. Between her classes, clubs, study times, school events, prefect duties and areas carefully marked off for her friends, it was very, very full. Hermione Granger was quite possibly busier than the Prime Minister, Severus thought, astounded. Even her _loo_ time was scheduled.

"We're in the staff quarters, so once we figure out the best times for us both to meet here, we should also figure out which teachers are about during that time so that we know who to be on the lookout for." Hermione mused. She sat down at the writing desk and pulled out another parchment, busily scribbling down names and crossing them off as she decided they wouldn't interfere. "The House Heads are all quartered near the dormitories, so we're probably safe from Professor McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout…"

Understanding, and warming to the idea, Severus added, "Madam Pomfrey's rooms are next to the Hospital Wing, too, so she won't be around here often, either."

"Hagrid's of course got his hut, and Firenze--he's a centaur, teaches Divination--he has a room on the first floor."

"That still leaves us possibly dodging Professors Vector, Sinistra, Slughorn…"

"Saxina, Trelawny--"

"Who?" Severus asked, frowning.

Hermione waved a hand. "Oh, I forgot, they'd be new to you. Professor Saxina teaches Magical Theory and Professor Trelawny is the other Divination teacher. There's also Professor Burbage--Muggle Studies--and Professor Babbling."

"Runes, right. Madam Pince, Madam Hooch," Severus sighed, "and _Filch."_

Hermione looked pained. "I'm a cat person, and even _I'm_ not fond of Mrs. Norris."

"I'm fairly certain she's really an Animagus who's stuck or something." Severus said grimly.

Hermione scoffed. "Oh, you don't actually believe that old rumour, do you?"

Severus shrugged and started ticking off reasons on his fingers. "She's really intelligent, and can seem to communicate, but doesn't have any Kneazle markings. She's really, really old for a cat--she was around when _I_ was a first year, twenty-five, no, six, years ago! She might not actually be a person stuck as a cat, Hermione, but she's _something."_

"A menace." Hermione responded, with aggrieved feeling, and Severus couldn't help but laugh.

"Either way, she's on the list. A rather long, list, actually, especially when you consider that one of the Heads might drop in for a surprise visit. I don't think Professor Snape would mind; he did the same after all, only in the dungeons." Severus said authoritatively, "He'd understand the need for a private place to study and experiment, he gets it, you know?"

"He'd probably let you off, but not me." Hermione's voice was rueful.

Severus nodded, conceding her point and started pacing again. "This seems to be a good time of the day in general, most of them have a class and the ones who don't are probably using their free period to mark."

Hermione nodded. "Crookshanks would probably help act as lookout, but this would be a whole lot easier if we had the Mar--" Hermione's mutter cut off with a horrified expression.

Alarmed, Severus asked, "What? Hermione what is it?"  
"The _Marauder's Map._ It'll give you away! I have to go!" Hermione bolted to her feet, hurriedly grabbing her bag and dashing out the door without another word.

Severus stared after her, still trying to process what had just happened. _The Marauder's Map?_ What on earth was _that_? Severus shook his head, then noticed Hermione had left her elaborate schedule behind in her panic. Picking it up, he gave it another amused look before folding it back up again carefully and putting it in his own bag. He could return it during Potions class.

The warding locks on this suite, like the vast majority of the private staff rooms, were not based on a password that could be guessed or overheard but on the magical signature in the owner's touch. It was enough to make him wonder if perhaps _Professor Snape's_ quarters… _and the potions storeroom..._ Severus licked his lips in anticipation. It would be worth trying, at least. Perhaps there would be some useful information within.

Carefully, he opened the door, wary of anyone who might catch sight of him. The coast seemingly clear, he crept out and started down the hall. It would not be a bad idea to put a couple of alarm wards a few paces off from the door, he mused. Perhaps something simple, just a ward line across the floor of the hall several feet on either side, alerting him if anyone crossed. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would be better than nothing.

Glancing about quickly to make sure no one was coming, Severus retreated further down the hall and set up the rudimentary wards—just a quick rune inked on the stone floor on either side of the hall, as close to the wall as he could manage. A few moments later and he had charmed it to ring a little chime inside the suite if anyone crossed it. He repeated the process about ten feet or so on the other side of the door, and then a third and final line at the entrance to the staff wing. Stepping back, he considered his work, trying to decide if his little ink marks were noticeable to the casual observer. Giving up, he shrugged a little. It would have to do for now.

Sighing a little in relief as he made it to neutral ground without being caught, Severus made his way down the stairs, reflexively bending his knees and catching the railing as it started to shift under him, re-directing his route. _Bloody staircase._ It was going to end up depositing him significantly off course. He checked his watch again and was alarmed to see that he only had about five minutes before class—the wards had taken longer than he had realised! Severus took the rest of the stairs as quickly as he dared whilst they were moving, and nearly leaped off when they came to rest. Severus sped up until he was practically running, nearly colliding with a Hufflepuff third year as he turned a corner.

He was out of breath by the time he made it to the Potions classroom, late rather than early. He slipped in just in time to see Slughorn give Potter and Weasley books and potion kits to use from the supply cupboard—apparently the two of them had come unprepared for class entirely. _Berks._

Sneering a little, Severus glanced about and saw Hermione sitting next to where Potter and Weasley had parked their things. Her mouth was set in a pinched, upset frown, and she kept darting worried looks at the two boys.

Rolling his eyes, Severus sat himself down on Hermione's other side with as much dignity as he could manage and dug into his bag, removing her schedule. He passed it to her and was gratified to see her clutch it to her chest and mouth "Thank you" to him. He smiled back, and whispered, "You didn't explain about the 'Marauder's Map.'"

Hermione bit her lip, her troubled expression returning, and whispered back, "Harry's got a map of Hogwarts that tells you where everyone is--it labels them, and you can't fool it into calling you something else. If he happens to take a look and notice that there are _two_ of you, or see what your proper name is…" Her voice trailed off.

Aghast, Severus stared at her. "You didn't think to mention it earlier?"  
"I _forgot!_ And they're still upset with me from this morning; I doubt Harry will let me borrow it, and then he'd eventually want it back...I don't know what to do," Hermione finished miserably.

Severus narrowed his eyes as he recalled how uncanny Sirius Black and James Potter had been at ferreting him out when they were in school together. "We'll tell Professor Snape. I'm sure he would love to confiscate that. I'm certain he could put it to better use, too," he added viciously.

Hermione bit her lip again, and asked, "Could we maybe tell Professor Dumbledore, instead? It's just that Professor Snape is horribly biased against Gryffindors, he wouldn't be fair at all—"

"Whereas Professor Dumbledore is horribly biased _for_ them," Severus shot back, angry. "Don't try to deny it, you know it's true."

"He wouldn't use it to hand out detentions to everyone, though, Professor Snape _would."_

Severus arched his brows at her and pointedly turned away, unable to respond as the two boys returned to their seats, and Professor Slughorn started to babble airily about the potions bubbling away at the front of the room. They would revisit the subject later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you so much for reading; please review! It is so wonderful that so many of you do-when I started this I had absolutely no idea I would get such an amazing response, and so much wonderful feedback! I have become both more confidant as a person and a much better writer in general because of you! You are wonderful, and I want you to know how much I appreciate you!
> 
> Special love to friends old and new: OneCelestialBeing, ThornedHuntress, Mellbell, AdelaideArcher, and Cybrokat. You know why precisely why. ;-)


	22. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
>  **   
>    
>    
>  A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.    
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One:** _(In which Hermione attends Potions class and has a pointed conversation with Professor Dumbledore...)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September 1996, 3:15 PM_

Hermione left the Potions classroom feeling positively _wretched._ It had started off well enough; Professor Slughorn was an interesting teacher. He had started the class with four potions to identify, and Hermione had manage to bank twenty points for Gryffindor. In _Potions_ class. That had been a rather lovely novelty. She'd identified the first three out of the four: the _Veritaserum_ had given itself away with such a low albedo, despite boiling. The _Polyjuice_ was, of course, rather obvious on sight after her second year. Even Harry and Ron had to have recognised that one. The _Amortentia…_

Hermione sighed a little, remembering, and felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. She had nearly blurted out in front of the entire class that her personal brand of attraction smelled like grass, parchment and _Atreus._

It had been more than just that simplified version of scents, of course. The _Amortentia_ had been reminiscent of a thousand summer evenings, the sweet warmth of July when the air heavy with freshly mown grass and the drugged languidness that came with a good book under a tree. It had smelt of new book bindings and clean parchment straight out of the packaging, the smell so full she could almost feel the texture under her fingers.

It had smelled of _him._ The subtle traces of tea tree oil and mint had blended in so seamlessly she hadn't realised what she had nearly given away until it was halfway out her mouth. Hermione had snapped her jaw shut and had carefully not looked at the boy sitting to her right. The scent had drifted from him to her, and from the potion in front of them, distracting her as she had attempted to pay attention to the class.

The fourth potion, _Felix Felicis,_ had been dangled as a prize for the best potion in class--a prize of more value in these times then she thought even Professor Slughorn realised. Here he was reminding them it couldn't be used in sporting events, when a potion like that could grant her financial security now that she no longer had the support of her parents. It could provide just the right steps, just the right spells at just the right time to be pivotal in another battle like the one in the Department of Mysteries. A potion like that could mean the difference between life and death for someone; it could change the outcome of the entire war!

Hermione had always been the best in every class, and now that she finally had a Potions instructor who wouldn't ignore her efforts, it was in the bag. Eagerly she had got to work. The Draught of the Living Death was _hard._ She had been doing well, splendidly even, until she got to the sopophorous bean. It slid out from under her knife multiple times, the hard curve resistant to her efforts.

A glance to her left showed Harry only squinting at his textbook with a confused expression on his face. On her right, Atreus had queued several beans up and seemed to be playing with various ways to destroy them instead of following instructions. He reminded her of Seamus in Charms class. He seemed to be trying everything from the standard instructions of simply slicing and squeezing the bean to what appeared to be a garlic press. Where had he even _found_ a garlic press? Atreus had considered the varying stages of sticky, gooey mess in front of him, and then to her horror, idly made notations about whatever his findings were _in the margins of his book._

Hermione shook her head, unable to believe it, and had returned her attention to her own potion, scraping as much of the juice into the cauldron as she could. It wasn't perfect--the shade of purple was clearly off. Frustrated, and wishing she had brought a hairband to contain her increasingly frizzy hair, Hermione had stirred as instructed, hardly noticing as Harry had borrowed her knife.

Then the lesson had been over, and the _Felix Felicis_ had been awarded to _two_ outstanding students...Atreus and Harry. Stunned, embarrassed and angry, Hermione had watched with barely contained upset as Professor Slughorn had measured out two small vials of the precious liquid, and _neither_ of them to her.

Atreus, she understood. Hadn't she already admitted that he was brilliant at Potions--far better than she, herself? Professor Slughorn had given him an arrested look and questioned exactly _how_ he was related to Snape. Atreus had compressed his lips and had reluctantly explained that he was Professor Snape's nephew, and that his father had died. Professor Slughorn had nodded, looking a bit disturbed, and had moved on to the other winner.

Harry Potter! Hermione's efforts had bloody well _carried_ Harry through half of his Potions classes! How in the _hell_ had he managed to make a better Draught of Living Death than she had? His pleased, smug expression as he had accepted Professor Slughorn's praise had curled her fingers into fists.

It was supposed to be _her_ moment, her day to prove that she _wasn't_ inadequate at potions, _her_ Felix Felicis. She might not have minded so much if Harry had actually deserved to win. He had explained, of course, once they were away from prying ears. He hadn't suddenly developed a keen Potions talent overnight, as he had led the Professor to believe.

Harry had _cheated._ Someone had written notes in his book, and he had used them to cheat. He had _trusted_ the random instructions of a mysterious book over the professor! Hermione's mood had gone from wretched to seething in a matter of moments. She had worked so hard for years to do something, anything to impress Professor Snape, and when they finally had a teacher who would give her a chance--after Harry had even told that teacher she was the best in their year--he had _cheated_ and had stolen the moment away from her.

Ginny had got wind of it, and had gratifyingly taken her side. She had her own reasons to mistrust mysterious books, after all. Hermione had been given the chance to try a couple spells on the book. It had not been enchanted in the least, which was a pity. She might have been able to make a case for him putting it aside if it had been.

Then she had seen a bit more of the inside, and had nearly fallen over in shock. She wondered if Harry would be more willing to ignore the textbook's instructions if he was aware of exactly who the author was.

She recognised that cramped, spiky writing all too well. She had spent nearly the entire summer in Atreus' company, and hadn't she just seen him making similar notations in his current textbook? It would be rather interesting to see how closely the old book and the current one matched at the end of the year.

It _really_ wasn't fair for Harry to have it, though. Even if one were to push aside Hermione's own acrimony at being showed up by a cheater, it was worse for Atreus. He put an incredible amount of thought, study and effort into improving potions. To have his work copied without his knowledge or permission, by Harry Potter, of all people, would quite possibly send him over the edge. It simply wasn't fair!

Hermione's little green monster rode her shoulder as she marched all the way up to the entrance of the Headmaster's office. Ostensibly she was going to ask the headmaster about taking charge of the Marauder's Map, but she knew she would be bringing up Harry's "new" textbook as well. If Harry Potter thought he could get away with breezing through his N.E.W.T. potions class after only getting in on a technicality, he had another think coming! Hermione wasn't usually the sort to tell tales, especially not on her friends, but he couldn't be allowed to just have a free pass like this! Not when they were covering important things he might actually _need_ to know!

Hermione stopped short by the gargoyle on the third floor, eyeing it for a moment. Perhaps she should just mention the map. The last time she had brought up a concern to Professor Dumbledore about one of Harry's possessions--his Firebolt--the boys had refused to speak to her for months. They were already upset with her because of Defence this morning. _Was_ she being unreasonable about Potions class?

Then she remembered the events of the day. Harry had been an absolute _arse_ to Professor Snape, only to have his detention conveniently circumvented by Professor Dumbledore's private lessons. He had blamed her for doing what she always did--her best--and then cheated in Potions class off Professor Snape's hard work from twenty years ago. Her hurt firmed her resolve.

"Acid Pops," Hermione told the gargoyle, pushing aside any guilt she felt about using the password she'd overheard from Harry to get him in trouble. It leapt out of the way, revealing the spiral staircase. A few moments later and she was knocking on the office door itself.

To her surprise, Professor Snape was already in the headmaster's office, his expression thunderous. He gave Hermione an annoyed glance, then said tightly, "This conversation is not concluded, not on any point. I cannot do what must be done if you continue to keep secrets and strip my authority."

Professor Dumbledore smiled genially at Professor Snape. "Of course not. Perhaps after supper, if you are available, we can discuss this further? Yes? Alright then, I'll see you then."

Professor Snape gave Hermione another annoyed look, then swept from the room, his countenance glowering and his robes snapping behind him. Professor Dumbledore's twinkling gaze settled on her, and Hermione felt a moment of self-consciousness. Clearly she'd interrupted something. No doubt her Defence professor would make certain she paid for it later. Hermione sighed and took a seat in front of the headmaster, idly accepting one of proffered lemon sweets.

"Miss Granger, what a felicitous surprise. Perhaps you are here to give me an update on young Atreus, and how he is settling in?"

 _Felicitous._ It was almost as if the Headmaster already knew… Hermione shifted in her chair uncomfortably. He couldn't, could he? It had _just_ happened. The short silence reminded Hermione she had just been asked a question, and she grimaced a little. She had honestly kind of forgotten she was supposed to be "helping" Atreus settle in. Not that he seemed to need it, really. "No, sir. I think he is doing well enough--as near as I can tell, at any rate. We are in separate houses and it's only the second day of school. If you're asking how he gets along with Harry, the answer to that is not at all. I don't see that changing a whole lot, to be honest."

Professor Dumbledore made a few humming noises, then murmured, "A pity."

"Whilst we're on the subject, though, I took the liberty of removing this from the library." Hermione dug into her bag, removed the Gold Book and placed it on the desk between them. "Atreus is new, which always inspires curiosity and gossip. What's worse, no one has ever heard of him before. It seemed inevitable that someone would attempt to look his name up."

Dumbledore gave her a pleased smile, "Once more, you prove yourself to be a very clever young lady and a credit to you house. Five points, Miss Granger."

She hadn't expected _that._ It felt rather...strange, accepting points for something that was both unrelated to school and obvious. Uncertain how to respond, Hermione fidgeted, and then said quietly, "Sir, I really don't like keeping secrets from Harry. It would make more sense to him if we told him, and whilst he might not be happy about it, he would at least understand--"

Professor Dumbledore blinked over his half-moon glasses. "I disagree, Miss Granger. He has a great deal on his mind this year...a very great deal. Best not to add to that burden with something trivial like this."

Hermione's felt herself gape. "But...but Professor, after last year…!"

"You really must trust that I know best, Miss Granger. I will not make the mistake I made last year with him. I will be giving him private lessons and a few important tasks this year on top of his usual schoolwork. As you know, sixth year lessons are not light, it will be quite a lot for him to manage without worrying about Mr. Prince and how he fits in with Harry's animosity toward Professor Snape."

"He's cheating, sir," Hermione blurted. She hadn't, until that moment, been positive about whether or not she would go through with telling on Harry. The words had slipped out, though, and in her frustration, she was glad.

Professor Dumbledore gave her an inscrutable look. After a moment, he seemed to make up his mind about something, and replied gravely, "That is a very serious accusation, Miss Granger. One that may affect more than just Harry, if other students are involved. Are you quite certain that he is cheating?" The threat was subtly made, but there. Clearly, Professor Dumbledore thought Harry was cheating off _her_ , and was hoping that the possible consequences would make her drop the subject. It made Hermione's blood boil to hear. She had helped Harry and Ron with their homework in the past, but she had _never_ let them actually copy her work. Hermione crossed her arms and nodded shortly at Professor Dumbledore in response.

Professor Dumbledore regarded her seriously and asked, "In what way is Harry cheating?"

"He's got an old textbook of Professor Snape's, sir. He's copying all of Professor Snape's potion work from when _he_ was a sixth year." Hermione answered evenly.

"Ah, I see." Professor Dumbledore idly fiddled with one of the knickknacks on his desk. "Miss Granger, Professor Snape is an instructor at this institution, and has been for many, many years. Until this year, his subject matter was, indeed, Potions class. Whilst unconventional, surely you can see that a student using a former textbook and insights of a professor could be considered just another form of teaching. Private tutoring, perhaps? No doubt Professor Snape would only be too happy to know that another student was taking his class seriously and utilising all methods at his disposal."

Hermione scowled. "Professor Snape was _not_ a professor when he wrote those notes. Just because he is now doesn't mean his student work can be considered course material. I certainly doubt Professor Snape would be pleased to hear that _Harry_ of all people is copying his work. It's especially unfair to Atreus, sir! He's actually _doing_ all that hard work and Harry is getting just as much credit for it. It's _cheating."_

Professor Dumbledore was silent for a long moment, and then said quietly, "Miss Granger, I would typically not burden you so, but I believe you to be a very mature and responsible young lady. You are within days of reaching your official age of majority within the Wizarding world, at which time you would be eligible to join the Order of the Phoenix should you be invited to do so by its leaders. May I count on your discretion should I entrust you with important information regarding this year?"

A slight chill shivered down Hermione's spine and warred with her indignation and pride. It was an effort not to blurt out immediately that _of course_ she was trustworthy. It was flattering that he thought she was worth treating as an adult, but even so, she felt strangely reluctant to make promises that she might regret later. Professor Snape's frustrated words from earlier came back to her.

_"I cannot do what must be done if you continue to keep secrets and strip my authority."_

Surely it would be better to know than not? Hermione answered slowly, "I believe so, sir. It would depend upon the nature of what I am told. I'll not put people in danger with my silence."

Professor Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Well said, Miss Granger. If you believe that someone is in true danger, you may of course inform your House Head of anything you hear today. There are many things happening this year--things of paramount importance." Professor Dumbledore paused, as if to be sure she understood, and continued, "I am going to be giving Harry a task that no other could do. If he succeeds, it will be a monumental step closer in defeating Voldemort.

"However, in order for Harry to succeed in his ultimate goal, I need--we need--Harry to be Professor Slughorn's favourite student. Professor Slughorn has some very important information and he refuses to share it, or to even admit that he knows it. However, he has shown a weakness in the past for particular pupils of his, and Harry has the advantage of already being someone that Professor Slughorn would like to take under his wing in particular. I have been informed that he has already started to gather a select few students as his personal protégés, that they were invited to sit with him on the train, is that not so?"

Hermione nodded as she understood, and the uneasy feeling in her stomach seemed to calcify into a hard rock. Professor Dumbledore was not going to keep Harry from cheating. He was going to turn a blind eye, or even _encourage_ him to cheat for the sake of Harry's secret mission.

Her fists clenched and unclenched under the desk where the headmaster couldn't see. "You're telling me that Harry's education and the unfair advantage he's getting over other students is worth the cost of getting this information that the professor is otherwise refusing to give. Information, I might add, that you can't even _prove_ he actually has!"

"Yes, Hermione. A fairly cheap price, considering the return--allowing Harry to continue to use Professor Snape's previous textbook does not put anyone in danger--no students are being clubbed by trolls or stone chess pieces, or petrified, no one is being chased by werewolves or dementors. No one is being pitted against magical monsters, Death Eaters or facing Voldemort themselves. No one's wand is being snapped and no one is _dying,_ Hermione, as Mr. Diggory and Mr. Black have already. There are many in the Order who have paid and are paying a far higher price in order to lend their assistance.

"I am sorry this situation disappoints you." His voice made it clear that he was disappointed in her for being upset. "But we all must sacrifice in order to win this war, and this is a small price to pay. Now, I must ask you again for your discretion concerning these events."

Her throat tight, Hermione nodded. "I won't say anything, if it's really that important."

Professor Dumbledore smiled at her and said with surprising lightness, "Thank you, Miss Granger."

Unable to keep herself from asking, Hermione blurted, "Sir? Did you _arrange_ for Harry to get Professor Snape's old textbook?"

Professor Dumbledore's smiled benignly again, the twinkle returning to his pale blue eyes. "No, indeed, Miss Granger. I did not even realise Professor Snape's previous textbook was still about, or that he was prone to keeping his secrets in it. I certainly did not arrange for Harry to come into possession of it. That is merely wonderful good fortune for us, isn't it?"

Good fortune. Yes, Hermione understood all too well. It was difficult not to understand, as unsubtle as the headmaster was being; he had all but smacked his lips.

Hermione smiled tightly, and stood. "Might I have an excuse note for Professor Flitwick, sir? I'm late for N.E.W.T. Charms."

"Of course, of course. Just be sure not to be late for Magical Theory tomorrow, Miss Granger. Professor Saxena's N.E.W.T.-level classes include some ideas that I think you might find fascinating." Professor Dumbledore said idly, writing out a note for her.

Hermione nodded, her feelings a strange mixture of anger, curiosity and resignation. What sort of information could Professor Slughorn have that Professor Dumbledore believed _Harry_ could retrieve when he couldn't?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review.
> 
> I've written out some of my head-canon notes for the Harry Potter 'verse (focusing on basic magical mechanics/semantics). The little things that don't crop up often but can flavour writing. If you are at all interested in reading you can find them on both AO3 and LiveJournal (links on my profile). Unfortunately I can't post them [on fanfiction.net], but I'll post links on my profile. I'll be adding to it as the mood strikes me-notes on spell casting, wandlore or the Sorting, etc etc. Some people are really into the behind-the-scenes how-it-works stuff, so I thought I'd share. :-)


	23. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two:** _(In which Atreus has enlightening conversations)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 03 September 1996, 07:43 PM_

Severus glanced up idly as several students started vacating the library, and then twisted around to stare at the large clock hanging over the main entrance. He hadn't realised it was quite so late—it would be curfew for the younger years in just a few minutes. The sixth and seventh years had the castle to themselves now for two more hours, and most of them would probably end up in the library. House affiliations aside, it seemed an unassailable truth that most students procrastinated on their homework throughout the day, mucked about during their free periods and then, when suddenly confronted with a much louder common room at eight in the evening, flooded the library to get their work done.

Severus ran a critical eye over his Charms essay and decided that he had made all the major points Professor Flitwick would be looking for. As soon as he wrote a quick closing paragraph, he could be done. _He_ would not be spending his two hours of extra freedom frantically doing homework. He had just stuffed his books and freshly rolled essay scroll back into his bag and was ready to leave when he saw Potter enter.

The other boy sat down and pulled out his charms textbook and writing supplies. No doubt he was about to work on the very essay Severus had just finished. Covertly, Severus studied him. He looked so much like his father that Severus' first instinct was to leave and try to avoid notice. _He has an essay to write, perhaps he will not follow…_ Severus shook himself, and grimaced. The resemblance really was startlingly close. Was there _anything_ of Lily in him at all?

 _His eyes._ He remembered that much from their ill-fated encounter in Diagon Alley. His build looked smaller than James Potter's as well. He was shorter, and leaner. Precious little of Lily seemed to exist in her child. Yet...something inside him had defeated the most powerful wizard Severus had ever heard of...as a _toddler._ Lord Voldemort had cut James Potter and Lily down with hardly a pause, and yet had burned to ash when confronted with this boy.

 _Lily._ It still hurt, like his heart was being squeezed. He had been petitioning to join the Death Eaters—he had been creating a fabulous elixir to prove he was worthy. He was supposed to be in a position of power so that he might secure _her_ safety. Why, then, was she dead? _Why_ had Lord Voldemort killed her, if Professor Snape sat at his right hand, as he had claimed?

Without even realising he was doing it, Severus found himself walking over to where Harry Potter sat. Potter was so engrossed in flipping through his textbook pages and adding to his essay that it took him a moment to realise Severus was standing in front of him.  
Potter looked at him warily, a barely contained tension in his frame that Severus recognised. Harry Potter was a little bit afraid of him. The thought had Severus pausing and then filing the observation away to prod at mentally later.

"Something you need, Prince?" Harry asked tightly.

Severus shook his head, and then contradicted himself. "I want to know how you defeated...You-Know-Who."

To his surprise, Potter suddenly slumped back into his chair and rolled his eyes. "You and everyone else. I don't remember it, at least not much. Professor Dumbledore told me that it has to do with love, and my mum dying. He said that Voldemort couldn't understand love, so he couldn't touch me. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense."

It made perfect sense, actually. Professor Dumbledore had told Severus at Grimmauld Place that Potter's survival had to do with "complicated blood magic." Once all the clues were there, it was frighteningly easy to understand exactly what had happened. It wouldn't occur to most people, he supposed. Not many were as interested in the Dark Arts as he was.

Blood was powerful. It made any magic more powerful—wards, rites, and potions. Often it could make magic _permanent._ A willing and innocent sacrifice of blood for another person would create a powerful protection spell. It wasn't the entire story, however. It couldn't possibly be. Otherwise Lily would have lived as well. Hadn't Potter allegedly given _his_ life to protect her as well as Harry? As much as Severus would like to believe that James Potter had failed to die altruistically enough, it really didn't hold water. After all, how many others outside the Potter family had also died in the war to protect _their_ loved ones? There was _something else_ involved that night that had caused the spell to backfire as it did.

"Erm...was that it?"

Severus glanced back down at Harry Potter, suddenly realising he had been standing silently over the boy for a full minute while he thought. He shrugged in response. "I was thinking."

Harry Potter pressed his lips together briefly. "You and Hermione are actually rather alike, aren't you? What is going _on_ with her anyway? Three days ago she said you were seeing each other, but now Ginny says you're not, but then you stood up to _Malfoy_ for her—which, don't get me wrong, I hate the guy, he's up to something and I'm pretty sure he's a Death Eater, so good on you for that—but he's not exactly the kind of person you get in the way of over someone you don't give a toss about, so—"

Severus shook his head and cut Potter off, "Shut up and take a breath, Potter. I can't respond with you nattering like an old woman." Severus tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, and then said quietly, "I don't like bullies."

Potter nodded slowly. "I don't like bullies, either."

Severus raised his brows in disbelief.

Potter frowned. "Is it _that_ hard to believe? I've never done anything to you, and I haven't been bullying anyone. Why would you think otherwise?"

"You drew wand on me the first time we met," Severus pointed out, crossing his arms.

"You hexed me first, unprovoked, in the halls here." Potter cut Severus off as he opened his mouth to protest. "We both know you are lying about that, even though you won't admit it. I don't get that, Prince. It's not like I can do anything about it even if you do admit it."

Potter sighed and rubbed his the scar on his forehead, then said reluctantly, "I grew up with my Muggle relatives. My aunt and uncle hate magic—they're afraid of it. My cousin has always been bigger, stronger and spoiled rotten. He used to make it clear in the school yard that anyone nice to me would find themselves cornered and picked on. He would throw tantrums and knock me down if I did anything he didn't like...or if anyone did something he didn't like. He used to convince my aunt and uncle to drop me off at this old lady's house next door so that I wouldn't be able to come on family outings, and I never got food unless my cousin had filled up first.

"Until I was eleven years old, I slept in a cupboard. When they finally did give me a bedroom, they put bars on the windows and tried to keep me from going to school. They _still_ tell all their friends that I go to a school for troublesome children, but not to worry, they beat students there regularly." Potter gave him a hard, flinty look. "I know something about bullying, Prince. I don't hold with it."

 _Petunia Evans_ had done that to her own nephew? She had never been a particularly nice girl, and had been clearly jealous of her sister, but she had seemed to care for Lily, too. Severus would not have thought that she'd treat blood that way. Suddenly Potter's smaller, leaner build made sense. Like Severus, he had been neglected and underfed just enough in his formative years that his body had compensated accordingly. Not wanting to empathise, but unable to really help himself, Severus gave Potter a short nod. "Hermione and I are friends, Potter. More than that...I'm not really sure right now. It's not really your business, you know."

"Hermione's my friend, too." Potter's gaze was steady, and nearly an exact replica of his mother's from years earlier. Surprisingly, that thought didn't twist in Severus' guts the way he expected it to.

Severus felt his lips twist slightly, and he glanced down at the nearly empty page in front of Potter. "Enjoy your essay." He turned away to leave just in time to see Potter grimace out of the corner of his eye. The superior feeling the image gave him made Severus feel oddly better. Not _everything_ had to change, and that was comforting.

He found Hermione loitering outside the entrance of the third floor corridor, looking like she was trying to act like she wasn't. Her body language practically screamed that she was either attempting to ambush someone coming out or spying on someone within. Gryffindors. It was almost cute, actually, how she tried.

A glance down the hall behind her revealed that there was no activity. "Is there a reason you're just hanging about instead of waiting inside?" he asked.

She gave him a dark look. "I couldn't just hang about outside the door in the staff wing. The door's only keyed to your magical signature, remember?"

 _Oh. Right._ "Between the two of us I'm sure we can figure out how to alter that," he responded. Checking the hallway again, he led her quickly down the hall to the right door and pressed his palm against it, unlocking it for both of them.

"Did you know," Hermione asked conversationally, "that the door at the end of that hall is a huge room with a trapdoor leading to a series of secret rooms beneath Hogwarts? Many of them are quite large and grand—makes you wonder what their purpose was when Hogwarts was created."  
Severus stared at her in surprise. "A series of grand chambers _beneath_ Hogwarts?"

"Yes, at least, I strongly suspect they are beneath—there's a hall after the initial drop that was a bit damp. I think it borders the lake."

Severus interrogated eagerly. "Were there any portraits? Statues? Did you see anything monstrous, or any evidence that something might have lived there once?"

Hermione blinked, then crossed over to sit on the couch and set her book bag down. Tucking her feet up under her, she answered cautiously. "Technically, we weren't supposed to be there, the headmaster had said it was off limits. Though in hindsight I think we _were._ Supposed to be there, I mean. It was set up to look like a series of layered protections done by the professors, but it was more like an obstacle course than _real_ protections, if you know what I mean? Like what we were talking about at Grimmauld Place.

"They didn't ward the door at all, just locked it. Professor Sprout used Devil's Snare instead of Venomous Tentacula, and Professor Snape provided potions with his riddle that would actually get past his wards instead of just poisoning all of them. The whole basis of Professor Flitwick's challenge was flying—something everyone knew Harry was good at by then. There _were_ monsters, yes, but they could be bypassed if one happened to actually read their homework, or alternatively, was friends with Hagrid." She frowned for a moment, as if just realising he was still standing there, staring at her incredulously. "Why do you ask?"

Severus shook his head, and tried not to be envious that she had actually _seen_ it. "I just...I hadn't realised that someone had _found_ Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets—or if it was really real. They must have tracked it down after the last time it was opened."

To his surprise, Hermione laughed and shook her head. "It's not the Chamber of Secrets."

"How do you know? It makes sense," Severus argued. "It's underground and at least runs by the lake and...what?"

Hermione was shaking her head again."Because the entrance to _that_ is in the girls' loo on the fifth floor—Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Harry found it in our second year."  
"Wait...wait, you're telling me _Potter_ found it? But...but…" To his horror, Severus heard himself whinge. "But he's a _Gryffindor._ He can't just...find it. Especially in the loo. The _loo_ of all places."

Hermione grimaced apologetically. "If it helps, it probably wasn't always a loo—a lot has changed in fifteen centuries, especially plumbing. Harry did use the _Sword_ of Gryffindor to kill the monster—a basilisk—and he probably wouldn't have found the Chamber at all except that he's also a parselmouth and could hear the awful thing."

Severus felt a little sick inside. Harry Bloody Potter had found the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets and had killed a basilisk at _twelve_ after defeating Lord Voldemort as a _toddler._ He had also apparently traipsed through some other suite of secret grand chambers in an obstacle course set up specifically for him by all the professors—if Hermione was to be believed, and he rather thought she was.

Yet Potter seemed so very ordinary. He didn't radiate power the way that the headmaster did, or his own elder self, nor did he seem particularly talented or intelligent, except in Potions. Even Severus had to admit, as much as it rankled, Potter _had_ made a hell of a Draught of Living Death. Severus tapped his foot as he thought, wishing he could puzzle out what it was that put Harry Potter in a strange class of his own. There was _definitely_ something about him—something intrinsically _not right._

Almost as if she were reading his mind, Hermione hesitantly tried to explain. "You must understand, everyone has expected Harry to be a hero and save them from You-Know-Who ever since he arrived here. It's given him a bit of a complex, actually. He's been targeted a lot by You-Know-Who's followers, and given extra attention and training by Professor Dumbledore. It's all just...snowballed a bit over the years, and sucked us all in. He wouldn't have found the Chamber, or been sucked into the TriWizard Tournament. I would never have been brewing polyjuice in second year if it weren't for Harry, and we certainly would never have tried to break into the Department of Mysteries last year."

Severus inhaled sharply through his nose, and couldn't keep himself from bursting incredulously,  
"You brewed _polyjuice_ in your second year?" Not even Severus had attempted so advanced a potion as early as _that!_ Impressed despite himself, he asked eagerly, "You _succeeded?"_

"Yes...well, sort of." Hermione's cheeks pinkened. "It worked for Harry and Ron. Mine...uh...I didn't quite get the hair I was looking for, so my results were a bit unexpected."

"Turned into someone you didn't mean to?" Severus couldn't help smirking. "Still, that's really, _really_ impressive." To his delight, her blush deepened and she glanced down at her hands, wringing them a little.

"Oh, it's nothing like you do," she demurred quickly. "I just...did what the book said. I'm better at following book instructions than anybody." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "I'm not creative like you are, able to improve them or make new ones. _That's_ what's really impressive." Her brown eyes flicked up to his briefly, and Severus felt his pulse jump in response.

He cleared his throat as what he wanted to ask seemed to be stuck there. "Why...why do you like me? No one really has before and I mean...you do, still, right?" He hastily asked, suddenly nervous that she had changed her mind, and was about to laugh at him.

Hermione's eyes shot to his again, and then dropped back to her hands. "Yes. I do. I rather wish I didn't, because you can be kind of an arse sometimes, like now, rubbing this whole thing in. Then you do something sweet, like in Defence, or in the library, and I just...Are you playing me?" To his surprise, she suddenly stood, nearly putting them eye-to-eye. Anger flashed in hers and she gestured sharply with both hands. "Were you—are you—just stringing me along because it feels nice to know someone likes you?"

Severus crossed his arms and hunched a little. "I...no. I don't think so."

"You don't _think_ so?" Her eyes snapped and her hands moved to her hips. Her chin jutted dangerously. "What do you mean, you don't _think_ so?"

 _Fuck._ He was in trouble, now. Severus shuffled past her and sat, letting his hair fall forward to shield his face. "I...it's been a lot for me at once. I spent years liking this other girl. Then suddenly I'm in the future and she's dead. _Dead,_ Hermione. She married the boy who made my life hell at Hogwarts, and then died, and then...then there's you, and you just seem to like me, when no one really has before." He allowed confusion to colour his voice and shrugged at her a little wonderingly. "And you're not even faking it so I'll do your homework! You're smart—smart enough to get my references, and you’re soft, and I like kissing you, but then sometimes I remember Lily, and I feel bloody guilty for just forgetting all about her.

"And suddenly I have to be someone else, and live in a different House, and make friends all over again," he lifted his head and glared at her. "Which is something I'm _bad_ at, alright? You already have all your friends and they didn't seem too keen to accept me, and...yes. Yes, I still like you. That bloody potion smells just like your lotion, and oranges. Like the way you tasted on the roof that night. Except it also smells…"

Severus' voice trailed off and completed the thought in his head. _...It also smells faintly of cherry blossoms and grass—like_ her, _and of the heavy candles that I associate with reading my Dark Arts books at night when no one can see. Part of me is relieved that I haven't lost her entirely, that I haven't lost_ me _entirely._

"I'm just...worried that liking you is not enough, or that it's wrong. What does that say about me if I can love one girl with every fibre of my being and just...forget her and like someone else only a month or so after finding out she's dead? What will it do to me if I let go and you bloody well just change your mind?"

Surprise, guilt and sympathy flittered across her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't…" She swallowed and admitted, "I didn't even consider. I feel like a horrible person for not getting that earlier." She sat down next to him and gave him an intense look. "I want to be your friend. I've already said that even if you don't want more, I want that. As for why I like you…" Hermione sighed.

"You don't make me feel...less because I'm smart. You don't look at me like I'm worthless because I don't charm my hair or alter my uniforms to fit more closely. I can say snotty things to you and you think it's funny. You like to learn things, to try things, and you aren't scared off just because it might blow up in your face or you might get in trouble. You were willing to teach me occlumancy—and you have this smile. This one smile that I feel like you only ever show me. It makes me feel like the prettiest girl in the world even though I'm not, just because it's mine." She gave him a sideways glance. "At least, I think it is. I've never seen you smile at someone else with it, and I...uh...I watch you rather a lot." She buried her face behind her hands, letting her own wild hair fall forward in a secondary shield. It was a gesture he knew all too well, and it was fascinating to see her version of it. "Ugh, I must sound like the worst sort of stalker."

She was rather adorable, actually. She liked him. Somehow, against all the odds, he had mistakenly landed in time with a girl that understood. Understood and _liked_ what he had to offer, even though he was too everything. Her admission bolstered his confidence, and Severus reached out and wrapped his arms around the girl next to him, tugging her close.

She started at first, nearly falling over in his arms, and then suddenly, fiercely wrapped her arms around him, too. It felt right; she really did fit just perfectly. He was still trying to decide the best way to go about kissing her when she said, "Oh, to hell with it!" into his shoulder, lifted her chin and kissed him instead.

They kissed for a long moment—a breathtaking tangle of sweetness and passion, before he reluctantly pulled away and gave her a look. "I want...I'd like to try this again. If that's okay."  
She stroked his hand softly. "Are _you_ sure it's okay?"  
To Severus' horror, his voice actually cracked as he answered. _As if I'm bloody-thirteen-years-old._ "I'm really sure. Just don't hate me if I occasionally get it wrong, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "Same goes."

They spent quite a bit of time kissing after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A very extra special thank you to Dragoon811, for calming me down and sorting my head out when I took a look at my outline and started freaking out. You're an angel.


	24. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three:** _(In which Severus snoops where he shouldn't.)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 20 October 1996, 07:43 PM_

Almost two full months after working things out with Hermione, Severus found that he was having an increasingly difficult time maintaining his dignity and not smiling all the time like a fool. Worse, he almost didn't mind. She was an extremely passionate person, he had found--about everything. She would champion the rights of _house-elves_ of all things, apparently not understanding the relationship they had with magic users at all, as well as other magical beings. She would bemoan what she claimed was the illogicality of the Goblin banking system, and was almost religiously serious about her duties as a Gryffindor prefect. Severus had tactfully refrained from telling her that he had overheard some of the younger students call her "the Tyrant-Bitch of Gryffindor."

Hermione was also a fanatic about her homework, double- and triple-checking everything, sometimes a week in advance. Severus hadn't even realised one could _get_ their homework that early, but his girlfriend apparently had standing arrangements with many of their professors. His girlfriend. The thought still made him slightly giddy. She was passionate about that, as well.

Only minutes earlier, she had been tucked neatly against his chest, half in his lap. Her breasts had been soft and plump through her school blouse and her lips teasing as she had nibbled on his neck and own lips. The way she squirmed in his lap was almost unbearable, her pert bottom torturous against his cock. Severus had never spent quite so much time in his life _aching._

Hermione wasn't one for public displays of affection, thank the Founders, and they'd even managed to keep a low profile for almost a month. Severus had wondered if she was deliberately trying to hide their relationship, and his insecurity nagged at him. When he had finally asked, as casually and roundabout as he was able, why she was so concerned if people found out, Hermione had shrugged and said quietly, "I hate gossip, and there is always so much drama in the halls. It's not really any of their business. I know I'm not especially pleased when other couples are constantly snogging in front of me; I'd rather people kept private things private." She was silent for a moment. "If someone asks me, I won't lie. I promise, I'm not ashamed of what's between us in the least."

So when Ginny Weasley ran into him in the hall and had made a pointed comment about how she didn't see Hermione at their usual table anymore, Severus had nonchalantly mentioned that they had been studying together privately. As he had anticipated, Ginny had immediately taken an interest in the statement. He had then allowed her to wheedle out of him--reluctantly--that yes, they were in fact a couple. The news was all over the castle by the end of the following class period. It was a little astounding how reliable the gossip network's efficiency was at Hogwarts, no matter what generation it was.

A small smile tugged at his lips and Severus couldn't help but reflect to himself that being happy was an incredibly _strange_ feeling. Most of his life had been spent tempered with an urgent need to prove himself. First to his father, who had very exacting ideas of what it meant to be a "man," most of which Severus fell short of. Then to Lily, who had very exacting ideas about what meant to be "right" with no room for grey or desperation. Then at school, to everyone, it seemed. His mother at home, who suddenly was interested in what he was doing for the first time in his life, his professors, his peers and the growing power outside school whose campaign he wanted to join. It had felt as if everyone needed Severus Snape to prove himself worthy of them, regardless of what their own failings might be.

Now...it was like he had a whole different life. He had been dating Hermione for almost two months now. Two glorious months of intense studies interrupted with intense snogging. She might always appear to be neatly buttoned into her uniform, but her emotions and her magic both ran as hot and wild as her hair. She was competitive with him both in the classroom and out, and Severus had never enjoyed school so much as matching wits, school marks and duelling reflexes against Hermione. They competed to see who could drive the other most insane with kisses, too. She was a gloriously good kisser--Severus lost and had to pull back a lot more often than she did. It was madness in the best possible way, and Severus found himself actually grinning on occasion, thinking about it.

The need to prove himself was still there, he mused. He wanted to be the best student in Ravenclaw, which was quite a bit more difficult than the best student in Slytherin. He wanted his professors to be pleased with him, particularly his own elder self, as absurd as that was. It was difficult to admit it at first, but he found that he wanted to be one of Dumbledore's special pets for once. Potter got special lessons and obstacle courses--that sort of private training would be invaluable. At the same time, the feeling of being never quite enough seemed to have eased. Not entirely, but enough that he no longer felt _caged_ by it. He no longer felt angry at the entire world, however, or nearly as resentful that he wasn't popular. It helped that Hermione seemed to understand in a way that Lily never could have.

The thought made him pause in mid-step. Lord Voldemort had offered his followers a better life. Being accepted as a Death Eater meant that he would be given respect, power, access to cutting-edge research and a part of a more understanding world. A world where magic wasn't simply labelled evil because someone didn't understand it. Lily had been adamantly against all of that from the beginning. She, like most Muggleborns, simply couldn't understand the rich possibilities that lay in the more unexplored "dark" depths of magic. If she had lain low, if she hadn't been such an activist about it, she probably would have survived.

The whole basis of Severus' current antipathy toward Lord Voldemort was Lily's death. He couldn't help but hate the wizard for it. Voldemort had killed the only person who had ever been decent to him for any length of time. Did that necessarily mean that his _movement_ was bad? Of course he didn't agree with _everything_ Lord Voldemort touted. Despite his conviction only a few months ago that pure blooded wizards were superior, he had to admit that witches like Lily and Hermione didn't work with that theory; it had been a convenient one for his bruised ego to put stock in.

No...Lord Voldemort was intelligent. He was a true visionary about what magic could be if people would stop being so afraid of it. To change the wizarding world, one had to convince the people with the most power, both politically and socially. Those were, by long tradition, the purebloods. Purebloods who would see fresh and innovative newcomers like Muggleborns as a threat. Tell them what they want to hear until you have the power to change the world. It was a very simple strategy, requiring very little effort to win the important people over. In all likelihood, Lord Voldemort didn't actually believe it any more than Severus did.

These weren't the sort of thoughts one could voice out loud in front of Hermione, of course. She, like Lily, had been fighting against Lord Voldemort and all he stood for from the beginning, and she would only be hurt by them. It didn't mean that Severus wasn't right, though.

Feeling rather pleased and clever that he had worked it out, Severus knocked on the door of Professor Snape's office. There was no response at first; Severus had actually turned to leave again when the door finally opened. Professor Snape was in his shirt sleeves, _sans_ coat and robes, the collar unbuttoned and the sleeve cuffs rolled once off his wrists. He was wiping his hands on a bit of towel, his motions neat and precise. The vision was startling, and Severus found himself staring as the harsh, older version of himself glared.

"What do _you_ want?" asked Professor Snape.

Severus gave him a level look. "I want to learn Potions from you."

"How unfortunate for you that Professor Slughorn is Potions Master, then." The professor turned away .

"Wait!” cried Severus. “You of all people, know how he is, and you know I've got the talent for more. I know you still brew--you wouldn't just stop because you teach Defence. At least let me watch, or assist with preparation. Like with Hermione's potions, before."

Professor Snape paused for a long moment, considering. His voice was dangerously soft when he finally replied, "Your timing is...suspiciously punctilious."

Possibly because Severus had been discreetly making note of the professor's schedule and habits over the last month. He didn't _know_ that the professor did his private research and brewing on Sunday evenings, but he had come to strongly suspect as much. Severus did his best to look innocent, and the professor snorted in blatant disbelief.

"Very well, you may attend if you do exactly as you are told and do not touch _anything._ Without waiting for a reply, Professor Snape turned and swept back into his office, leaving Severus to trail after.

"Yes sir," replied Severus anyway. He glanced around. The office was as he remembered from his first night--dark and intimidating, dominated by the huge, ornate desk and shelves of preserved specimens. One in particular caught his eye, and Severus couldn't help but ask interestedly, "Is that a _mermaid?_ It looks...off."

The professor gave an annoyed huff. "That's because it hatched with a deformity. It did not survive past the juvenile stage, obviously."

"Obviously," Severus agreed in a faint voice, averting his eyes from the small tank. The professor had crossed the room to a side door Severus had not noticed previously, and placed his palm flat against it and murmured something too low to hear. His _personal, private_ lab was locked by magical signature and a password, Severus noted with glee. It really _might_ be available for exploration if he could figure out the password. There was a faint click as the door opened, and with an impatient hand, Professor Snape ushered Severus in.

The L-shaped room was everything and nothing like Severus had expected. There were the usual apparatuses one would expect to see in a private lab of a professional brewer: large floor burners as well as space for conventional brewing, a carrera prep counter with butcher's block and custom drawers for the variety of tools and appliances used. There was a crucible, vial metre, refracting microscope, centrifuge and a fanciful, curlicued glass distiller that looked like it should have belonged to a mad alchemist. Several shelves for potion vials and large cupboards that doubtless were used as cauldron and potion component storage lined one long wall. At the very end of the room stood a wash station and research area, including a small stone pensieve and a tall glass case full of bottled memories. It was high-end equipment, but not unexpected.

What did catch Severus off-guard was the _location_ of the room. He had assumed that the lab, adjacent to the professor's office as it was, would be in the dungeon. Yet there was a wide, arched window just over the washing station. No light filtered in at this time--the sun had set nearly two hours previously this late in autumn--but stars shown through, placing the room _definitely_ above ground.

Confused, Severus asked, "Sir? That window...We're...?"

The professor's expression was supercilious. "South tower--about halfway up. It is easier to use a translocating portal than to find adjoining quarters, laboratory and office of appropriate size near the Slytherin dorms. This way, the entrance to all of them is through my office. They all have separate entrances of their own, of course. It is...convenient."

 _Convenient, indeed._ Not only to ensure that the professor had whichever available rooms in the castle that suited him, but it also provided a direct, near-instantaneous route to three separate areas of the castle! It was no _wonder_ the professor seemed to be omnipresent. The quiet word he had whispered wasn't a password after all, but an instruction to where the door should open. The lock _was_ his magical signature.

Now that Severus thought about it, a translocating portal likely explained Mr. Filch's ability to keep up with the students as well. It had always been a mystery how the old, half-lame squib had managed to be such a terror with his disadvantages. Severus chuckled quietly to himself, then asked politely, "What can I do to be of use, sir?"

The professor regarded him silently for a moment, then said quietly, "I am sure I do not need to impress upon you exactly how important it is that you not speak of anything that you see, work with or hear me talk about in this lab."

Severus shook his head emphatically.

"Good. I am currently trying to improve several different healing balms and elixirs by experimenting with the latex of the _Croton lechleri."_

"Sangre de Drago!" Severus exclaimed, "Like Daniela Delgado!"

The professor blinked. "Indeed. What do you know of Mistress Delgado's work?"

"I read _Sprekelia and Sangre de Drago_ last spring, just after I got here, and over the summer her Master Class dissertation in the IGPA's publication. She's using it to make _incredible_ strides in anti-nausea and digestive system elixirs."

"Yes." Professor Snape began lecturing clinically. "The latex has been used by Muggles for centuries in relation to various digestive complaints, which Mistress Delgado has been focusing on, but also topically on lacerations. That is where I am focusing _my_ efforts. I have managed to successfully improve several healing balms. When added as a component to topical potions, I've found that lacerations and wounds heal between twelve and nearly twenty-two percent faster, depending on how it's prepared with which balm it is used in."

"That's...that's…" Severus worked his jaw, unable to find words. Finally, he breathed, "Have you patented any of it yet?"

The professor shrugged the notion off as unimportant. The gesture nearly brought Severus to tears. That sort of improvement would mean an enormous and nearly immediate wealth. There wasn't a healer or hospital in the world that wouldn't want to use a recipe improved on by nearly twenty-two percent. Severus was unable to keep the whine from his voice. _"Why not?"_

The professor glared. "You sound ridiculous, don't ever make that sound again. You cannot control your circumstances, but you may control your own reaction to most of them. Sounding like a petulant child is the first and easiest way to lose face with your peers and superiors."

It was difficult to not make a face at that, though Severus rather supposed that was the point. His elder self continued to explain. "Improvements I make to potions currently are better off unpatented until the political climate has been resolved," he said pointedly.

Ah. _Of course._ Once it was patented it was a matter of public record. Then the professor would have to explain to either or both sides why he hadn't kept it private for _their_ side alone.

The professor cleared his throat and began to carefully remove several vials from a cupboard, holding each one up to a light before dropping it into a stand on his workspace. "I am currently attempting to use Sangre de Drago to improve wound balms that can be used in conjunction with an antivenin."

"Like for acromantula or grindylow bites?"

"Yes. This particular version is for a serpent bite, as it happens. A patient was admitted last year to St. Mungo's that I did some consultant work on. The patient did survive, but it was a near thing and a long and painful process. I'd like to improve on the potions used for that particular breed."

"Oh." Genuinely interested, Severus tilted his head, "What kind of snake is it?"

"I'm not entirely certain; I haven't really been able to study it. I strongly suspect she started out as _vipera ammodytes_ but has been magically encouraged to change quite a bit. There are no horns on her snout, and she has definitely been magically enlarged. She is nearly python sized. She is definitely a viperid, not an elapid. Hinged fangs, triangular head, stocky despite her length. The venom is both neurotoxic and hemotoxic."

Severus hadn't actually known the difference between an elapid and a viperid, but he was able to follow the rest. "So the victim is immobilised and the blood is coagulating, the antivenin is trying to counter it but the Sangre de Drago to heal the wound itself is interfering with the anti-hemotoxic properties of the antivenin."

"More or less, yes."

"Someone magically bred a creature like that _larger?"_ Severus was aghast. _"Why?"_

One of the professor's shoulders twitched slightly. "I really couldn't say."

Severus snorted a little. "Compensating, you think? Not very subtle imagery."

"Not everyone is." A hint of a smile ghosted across the professor's lips, before he suddenly hissed in a breath, and he muttered, "Oh, of course."

"What?"

The professor gave a soft sigh. "I've just remembered a prior engagement; I'm not sure how long I will be." He paused for a moment, flexing his fingers indecisively, then said, "If you are set on making yourself useful, then mince these--no larger than a pinhead, mind--and place them in a jar of rosemary extract for preservation. Clean up after yourself and go back to your room." The professor hesitated, and then gave him a direct look. "Do not touch _anything._ If I find a single instrument out of place or component missing from the cupboard, I will hold you personally responsible and use your hide to bind my grimoire. Have I made myself quite clear?"

Severus blinked, and then nodded rapidly. That was a rather dramatic threat to make, but he supposed that it was understandable that he would be especially protective of his personal research and equipment.

The professor gave him a hard look, and then exited quickly, robes flaring. Just like that, Severus found himself alone in his professor's private lab.

He managed to mince the long spiky root he had been left with for about twelve minutes before--after a paranoid glance about--abandoning his task to prowl about the office, taking a closer look at various things. He ended his circuit at research desk, cabinets and pensieve.

There were a total of fourteen shallow shelves of bottled memories behind sliding glass doors in the cabinet. They seemed to be organised using different colours of yarn tied about their necks, and then further labelled in surprisingly neat block writing. Severus leaned in closer to one of them to get a better look without touching. The yarn holding its tag in place was a bright yellow, and the tag simply read _**S3-T2-P37**_. Its neighbour, also with yellow yarn, was similarly labelled, _**S3-T3-P41**_. Disappointed, Severus leaned back again. Clearly, one had to understand the professor's organisational system to know which memory might be worth looking at.

Restlessly, Severus ran his eyes over the rest of the bottled memories, not really expecting to see anything that might help. There were other colours of yarn involved--blue, purple, green, all labeled with varying combinations of S, T and P numbers. Then he frowned. Each shelf had its own glass sliding door and small silver lock, so why was there a subtle handle on the side of the whole cabinet?

Feeling a small surge of adrenaline, Severus reached out grasped the handle and tugged. Nothing happened. Taking out his wand, Severus aimed it at the handle and whispered, _"Alohamora."_ The cabinet clicked and the whole side of the cabinet separated from the wall. Curious, Severus nudged it open further and found a second set of of shelves. These didn't have a glass cover, and the memories inside were not colour coded, only labelled with a simple date.

Severus reached out to touch one of them, and only barely caught himself before he did so. Circumspectly he drew back again, glancing wryly at a clock on the wall, and the spiky root he had yet to finish mincing. He had no idea when the professor might return and even if it wasn’t for several hours, Severus' currently dirty gloves would have given him away by leaving smudges on the glass bottles.

Really, he was smarter than that. Especially since he was fairly sure he could access the lab again, and had a fairly good idea of the professor's schedule. Getting caught because he wanted to see his counterpart's research and was too impatient to wait until a better time was _beyond_ idiotic, and very Gryffindor. Hermione must be rubbing off on him.

 _That_ thought got him thinking about Hermione rubbing _on_ him, and with a chuckle at his own dirty thoughts, Severus returned to his prep table. It took a few tries, but eventually he was able to concentrate once more on the root under his fingers and not his new fantasy about a naked girlfriend in the forbidden professor's lab.

When he finally cleaned up after himself and left, the root neatly jarred and left out for the professor's inspection, it was just after ten in the evening and the older man had still not returned.

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 23 October 1996, 10:03 AM_

It was two days before Severus was able to muster the nerve up to try and sneak back into Professor Snape’s lab. It was surprisingly, ridiculously easy. Despite knowing he was more clever than most, he hadn't really expected to gain entrance. Yet both the office door and following translocation door had parted willingly for his magical signature. Apparently, however different they might be, their magic was still the same. It was a little surprising that his older self hadn't realised and taken extra precautions to keep him out.

Once he was actually standing in the beautiful lab again, Severus found that he had to muster his courage to snoop once more. He wasn't really worried about being caught; the professor had a double period and wouldn't be free for at least another hour and a half. It was still nerve-wracking to think of invading the privacy of the dangerous and pitiless older man.

Severus made his way back to the research area and the pensieve, and pulled a pair of freshly cleaned gloves from one of his robes pocket. He studied the bottled memories in front of him for a moment and then decided the purple group appeared to be the most recent. A soft _Alohamora_ on the small sliding door lock later, and Severus had the last bottle of the series in hand. A few seconds later he was sinking into the pensieve.

The professor was standing in the same lab, wearing brewing protective gear. A small cauldron was simmering in front of him. Behind him, at the desk, there was an open journal and a Self Writing Quill taking notes as he spoke.

"Study eight, trial five. Notes beginning on page 78 purple. Base is Nagini Antivenin Number Four. Current hypothesis: using powdered dragonfly wings instead of doxy wings may cause a faster reaction and allow the pennyroyal to juice quickly enough to keep the ashwinder eggs from being destroyed."

As he spoke, the professor carefully measured out a small spoon of the powder. He sprinkled it into his cauldron, and stirred gently, making note the changes he found in the process. After several long minutes, he hissed in a breath and ground out, "Trial failure. Ashwinder eggs ruined, threat of imminent fire." Looking frustrated, the professor dumped several spoonfuls of Lapland snow into the cauldron just as actual _flames_ started to flicker from it.

A burst of amused laughter behind him had Severus whirling, and to his shock, Damian Vector was sitting at one of the prep tables, watching the professor work. He was wearing ordinary trousers and brown robes rather than the elegant, deep blue Unspeakable issue, and his dark curly hair was tied back in a short, messy queue.

"It isn't funny," the professor groused. "It's a process. It happens to everyone."

"Maybe I'm laughing at those ridiculous goggles. I still don't understand why you want me here. You know that Sesh is better at both research and potions than I am," Damian said idly, fiddling with the cuff of one of his sleeves.

"She isn't a medic, and you are more familiar with the process of trial and error." Professor Snape's voice became mocking. "Also, she asked if I would mind you this weekend."

Damian's expression became sulky and the memory abruptly ended, the world around Severus tugging away. The professor must have removed that memory for bottling at that very moment. Well, the filing system was certainly explained now. A quick glance at the bookcase of journals did indeed reveal that they, too, were colour-coded. Why _had_ Vector been in the lab? Surely just being a medic wasn't enough to bother including him in the research, and Severus didn't believe for a moment that Professor Snape actually needed to mind a grown man enough to want him in his private lab.

Eagerly, Severus watched the previous sequential memory, but it was clearly on a different day, and devoid of the Unspeakable. Study eight, trial five went much the same way as the last had, with a failed experiment involving keeping the ashwinder eggs cold enough to be stable but the pennyroyal hot enough to juice.

Disappointed, Severus glanced at case of memories again, and considered going back further, then shrugged a little and unlocked the back cabinet. Perhaps the memories _there_ had some interesting or useful information. Uncertain which to choose, and feeling a clench in his gut that perhaps this was a _very bad_ idea, he chose one from the middle. The date it was labeled for was August 12th of that year. Moments later, Severus was again submerged in the pensieve.

When he resurfaced nearly fifteen minutes later, all he could do was stare wide-eyed at the pensieve. He replaced the memory in its bottle with shaking hands and shut the cabinet door firmly. Eyes still wide, he exited the lab, shaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry it's been so long! Life got very busy all of the sudden! In two months I went back to full time, got a promotion, had a new doctor join our staff, had our primary doctor change the office hours, accepted the resignation of our lead assistant, and oh, yeah, found out I am pregnant. I've also joined the Inter-House Fest on LJ. Because I'm a masochist. ;-) Please forgive me for not working on this story much. As always, much adoring love to my reviewers and the alpha/beta team that is so patient and awesome with me! ~Tyche


	25. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
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>  **  
> **  
>   
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> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 09 November 1996, 10:12 AM_

_"Yeek!"_ Hermione couldn't stop the yelp she made as an arm snaked out from a wall and grabbed her. The book she had been carrying dropped to the floor as she was wheeled about into a small alcove hidden behind a false wall. A moment later found her pressed up against a familiar chest, her wand wedged threateningly into her attacker's ribs. At least her reflexes were good, she decided, even if she had sounded like a dolt.

"You scared me!" She sheathed her wand.

"And you _squeaked."_ He teased back.

Hermione made a face at him, and he chuckled then kissed her in apology. The kiss lingered, sending warm tingling waves down her spine, and she snuggled closer to him. He paused for a moment, then his other arm wrapped around her waist and he kissed her properly.

His mouth was confident and hot, his tongue stroking along hers and his teeth gently nipping at her lips. The long-fingered hands that he used to meticulously prepare potions and deftly accomplish his wand work were equally dextrous with her. Warm and firm, they slowly slid up the line of her back and down again, pausing briefly to dip under the hem of her jumper to caress her bare skin and tease the lower edge of her bra.

Heat skidded up her spine even as it kindled low in her stomach and tightened her nipples. Every time they had touched, kissed and stroked each other, the desire between them had sparked a little more quickly, a little more aggressively. After the slow, building tension of the last several weeks, it seemed both of them were primed; it took barely a few moments now for Hermione to find herself clinging and clenching her thighs reflexively, teetering between desperately needing more and nervously wondering if she were quite ready for it. The last time they'd played like this in their study room, they had become so carried away that he'd managed to leave her with her school blouse completely unbuttoned and the cups of her bra pushed down. The mind-blowingly lovely sensation of his hands and gaze on her bare breasts had been utterly consuming. It had been difficult to slow things down.

And now, once again, his hand was kneading a breast through her clothes, eliciting an echo of the lovely sensation from before. Hermione moaned into his mouth, unable to stop herself, and he growled in response, those marvellous hands of his cupping her rear and lifting her slightly into him. His erection rapidly thickened against her abdomen as he rocked slowly against her. A small, swift step and he had backed her against the wall of the alcove, his mouth and hands urgent.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and her own hands crept under his shirt to caress his back; he shuddered as her nails scraped gently along his spine. To her delight, he groaned as well and his hips jerked against her firmly, leaving no room for doubt that he was _very_ turned on. Even as he ground into her, mimicking sex, his mouth left hers to suck and nibble along the line of her throat. His other hand abandoned the curve of her bum to join the one at her breasts instead, fingertips lightly stroking over her nipples.

She arched and shimmied a bit against him, trying to rub her overly-sensitised nipples more firmly against his palm and her core more directly against his cock.

"Fuck, Hermione, you're killing me." His voice was ragged against her ear. "This was supposed to be just 'good morning.'" His erection bucked against her again, and this time caught her at just the right angle to draw a long, strangled sound out of her.

"Ohh." She sighed it out and then kissed him furiously, lifting one knee to run her leg up his, hooking around him as she rubbed herself against him. "Just a little more. I'm so…this feels _so_ good." The seam of her denims was in a perfect position against her knickers and clit, and she had to bite her lip to contain her groans with each roll of their hips. Atreus choked in response, and kissed her again, his mouth demanding. His hands tugged at the hem of her shirt and his hips jerked against hers. Eagerly, she rocked back, lost in the feeling of his firm body and the hard bulge in his trousers rubbing against her core.

"Gods... I want you... so badly. Right now. I just want to…" his voice stuttered and his head dropped against her shoulder helplessly as they continued to rock with and against each other. He laughed, a slightly strangled sound, and said breathlessly, "like in that book. Where he just rips her robes right down the middle, then picks her up and fucks her right against the wall? I want to do _that."_

Hermione mindlessly keened in agreement, and then suddenly he _was_ lifting her, his hands under her rear and hooking both legs around his waist. For a moment, it was amazing. Perfect, indescribably perfect pleasure jolted through her as his erection stroked against her exactly where she needed it the most.

Then Hermione felt her legs start to slide down his. His lean and very male frame had no hips for her to keep purchase on, and desperately, she tried to hitch her legs back up again. He nearly crushed her against the wall as his hands went to her thighs to help support her. However, once the support left the curve of her rear, she found that the weight of her upper body was a bit too much, and her bum started sliding down the wall instead.

Atreus grunted, and Hermione couldn't stifle a small giggle. "This position doesn't actually work very well, does it?"

"No, hold on, I’ve got it…" he muttered. He tried to heft her up again against the wall, shifting his hands again. He let out another small grunt, and suddenly lost his footing. Hermione let out a shriek as they toppled, crashing down to the ground outside the hidden alcove. They landed hard, their breath leaving them in twin grunts of pain as they found themselves sprawled on the floor of the--thankfully empty--hallway.

"Uhn….ow. I think I landed on your book," gasped Atreus.

"I'm going to bruise for certain...my elbow _smarts."_

"Sorry," he said. "You're heavier than I... I mean, not heavy, just... I'm not used to that, and--"

"Atreus?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Yeah."

They began to painfully untangle themselves and sit up. Hermione suddenly giggled. "So you _did_ read that book."

He gave her a long-suffering look. "I was bored. _Please_ don't tell anyone."

She grinned at him cheekily. "I won't." She glanced back at where the alcove lay hidden behind what appeared to be a solid wall. "It's probably for the best things didn't go any further, though, really. I mean... I don't think I'm ready to...to you know."

Atreus scrubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, though maybe next time we try something like that, we pick a spot a little more comfortable and less... near a hall."

Almost as if summoned, the Bloody Baron chose that moment to glide around the corner. He stopped, his lips pursed and eyebrows drawn down in a clear show of disapproval.

"It may be the weekend, but the two of you are still students of this school, and one of you a Prefect, besides. It would behoove you to not to rut in the halls like a pair of animals, lest you be removed from this august place for your poor comportment."

Hermione felt her cheeks flame, even as Atreus held up the book she had dropped. "She reads when she walks, I'm afraid I was going a bit too fast. We crashed into each other, is all."

The ghost waved a hand towards Atreus' subsiding erection. "Don't lie to me, young man. I've walked these halls a thousand or so years. I know what a lad with rogering on the brain sprawled out next to a lass with her clothes in disarray means. At least have the intelligence and decency to take it where you are less likely to get caught next time. Honestly, you do your house shame. Put yourselves to rights and move along. If I catch you in such a state again I'll be having words with your heads of house." With another flinty glare, the ghost drifted on, still muttering about hormonal teenagers.

Hermione ducked her head in embarrassment. "Oh, my god!" She quickly tugged her shirt back down from around her ribcage and re-zipped her jumper, staring at Atreus in astonishment. "I didn't even notice that you'd got my jumper undone!"

He smirked, though the look was ruined by his own flush. "Got a bit distracted, did you?"

"No more than you!" she retorted. Hermione glanced back at the wall where she now knew the little alcove was hidden. "When _did_ you find that little hidey-hole?"

Atreus scoffed, "That? That's one of the worst kept secret of Hogwarts. There's another on the fifth floor behind the tapestry of Adad Stormrider. I'm pretty sure they're the _first_ place teachers look for students after curfew."

Hermione stared at him. "I never even knew!"

Atreus snorted. "Best keep pretending you don't. People probably think you're turning the blind eye, like the other prefects. It'll only make your life miserable to sell out your fellow students. Like I said, the teachers always check anyway."

"Ugh. I'm not going to be able to walk past this spot now without wondering who might be groping each other and watching me pass by."

Atreus grinned in response, and Hermione couldn't help but compare it to the sinister smirk that Professor Snape used. His even teeth, unlined face and apparent good humour made the two men vastly different. It was difficult to believe that the professor could have ever been the teenager in front of her.

Hermione sighed, and then gestured toward the book he still held. He handed it over. "You're still coming with me to Hogsmeade?" she asked, suddenly unsure again.

Her query was answered with an absent smile as he stood, then extended a hand to help her to her feet as well. "Yes, of course. Actually, I... I have something I want to ask you."

"Oh?"

He shrugged a little, his eyes troubled. "I... rather found out about something I wasn't really supposed to, and I'm not sure what to think about it." He looked out into the nearly deserted hall again. "We should go if we want to catch the carriages on time instead of walking. You'll want to put your book back and grab your spending money first?"

She nodded and tucked the book under her arm, catching his hand with her free one and leading him toward Gryffindor Tower. He fell in beside her. "I'm a bit surprised they didn't cancel this weekend," he said abruptly.

"Hogsmeade?"

"Yes. After what happened last time…" his voice trailed off and he frowned.

Hermione agreed quietly. "Katie's still at St. Mungo's, I've heard. They haven't been able to figure out what that... that necklace did to her, or how she got hold of it."

To her surprise, Atreus gave her an uneasy look, then said, "Is she a Muggleborn, do you know?"

Hermione frowned. "I don't think so... It's never come up, at least. I haven't really asked. Harry knows her better than I. You think she was targeted because of her blood status?"

He shrugged. "It's possible. Why else would someone curse her with a dark artifact like that? I think Malfoy's up to something. Or..." Atreus' voice dropped to barely audible, "maybe even the professor."

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes as they stopped outside the Fat Lady's portrait. "Not you, too! Harry's been harping on and following Malfoy almost obsessively since school started, and the professor? You _especially_ should know better, Atreus. I'll be right back. Oh-- _baubles_." The portrait swung open and Hermione climbed through, nodding at a few of the students on her way to her room. A few minutes later, winter cloak and coin pouch in hand, she was back out the door where Atreus waited, shifting his weight back and forth.

"Alright, I'm ready. Now what on earth has you thinking that the professor would want to hurt Katie, of all people?"

"Hold on, not here. I'll tell you in the carriage."

Impatiently, Hermione waited until they had left the castle and were seated in one of the carriages before gesturing at him. "Well?"

"Here's the thing... like I said, I happened to find out some things I'm not supposed to. I think... I think Dumbledore might be mistaken about him."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Atreus cut her off. "Look, just... hear me out. I think Malfoy is a Death Eater, or if not, he's close to it. I know he's running errands and being given assignments and punishments of some kind from You-Know-Who. And... the professor... Over the summer he made an Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa Malfoy.. Like, he'll actually _die_ if he doesn't do what he promised. He was really sick, too. Like... I don't know, maybe he was cursed, or maybe almost breaking a different oath. I don't know, but he looked _awful,_ like on death's door."

His head shook quickly and his fingers worried at the edge of his cloak. "I can't help but think... that's when I got sick, too. Nothing helped, and Madam Pomfrey couldn't figure out why, and what if... what if it was because of him? What if we're... connected, so that his oaths and curses affect me, too? I just... I don't know. What I saw... Hermione, it didn't seem like he was just pretending to be on their side.

"Then, barely a couple months after school starts, that girl gets cursed with a dark artifact and no one knows how she could have got it... " He gulped. "What if that's Malfoy's task? What if... What if he was told to try to curse Muggleborns or blood-traitors or something?"

Hermione stared at the boy next to her, unable to close her mouth or come up with a reply. They sat like that for the last couple of minutes to Hogsmeade. Atreus continued to fiddle with his clothes and belt pouch whilst she stared at him in shock. When they eventually stopped, and he jumped out and turned to help her down, she finally found her voice.

"Alright, I guess... Let's start from the beginning. How long ago did you find all this out?"

He looked away, then back at her, his cheeks flushing a little. "About a month? I've been helping the professor a bit in his private lab, and I... Well, I sort of stumbled across some memories he'd put aside. I think perhaps to hide them from Professor Dumbledore. I didn't want to say anything, though, until I'd thought about it a bit."

Hermione closed her eyes and groaned. "Oh, Atreus." If only her boyfriend knew just how similar he and Harry actually were.

He had the grace to look embarrassed, his eyes shifting down as they started off down the main road of the village, then jerked a hand through the air. "Look, I know I shouldn't have, but just... focus for a minute. In one of the memories I saw, he was living at my parents’ old hovel in Manchester with Pettigrew. _Pettigrew_ of all people, that boot-licking little louse, and he was really sick. Then the Black sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix showed up. Bellatrix accused him of being a traitor and they started arguing about whether or not he was loyal to the Dark Lord. He was _really_ persuasive, Hermione."

She glanced over at him and caught his anxious expression. She gripped his hand harder, trying to soothe him. "Well, of course he must. I mean, that's part of his job, right? He's got to be  
convincing if he's going to make even You-Know-Who think he's on their side."

Atreus shook his head. "I know. Except then, Narcissa started crying and said that the Dark Lord was giving Malfoy impossible tasks to punish his dad, and started begging the professor to help. At one point, I thought it was over. He told her she shouldn't talk about it since the Dark Lord told her not to, and Bellatrix agreed. He could've just sent them on their way. Instead... instead he said he _would_ help Malfoy. Then took an _Unbreakable Vow_ to do it. Why would he do that if he didn't have to? Why, if he wasn't really on their side? He had a way out!"

Hermione chewed her lip. "I... I don't know. I mean... we don't know what Malfoy's assignment is, and the professor presumably does. Maybe it's just brewing a really, really dangerous potion that could kill Malfoy or something. Something he can't do on his own but Professor Snape can help with, and he's not really promising anything that will hurt anyone."

For a minute, Atreus looked hopeful. "You think?'

"Maybe. Have you asked him?"

The look he shot her was scathing.

"No, of course not, sorry, that was a silly question." Hermione thought for a moment. "How about Madam Pomfrey? You two are close, and she's known him--you--this whole time, lived in the same castle as him for years. She still obviously cares. Maybe she'd have some insight?"

Atreus sighed. "Maybe. I don't know, I'm not even supposed to know about it. Do you think she'd tell him?"

Hermione shrugged helplessly. "You know her better than I."

"Mmmm." He held open the door of Scrivenshaft's for her. "Perhaps I'll have a swallow of the _Felix Felicius_ just before," he reflected. "Not the whole thing, of course, but it wouldn't hurt to give myself just a bit of an edge. She's fond of me, but not enough that she'd run her mouth about _his_ secrets to a teenager."

Hermione could only stare in surprised amusement, stifling the urge to giggle. It took him nearly a minute before he looked up from the shop's quill selection and realised she was watching him instead of perusing the wares herself. His eyes darted about, then looked down at his clothes, trying to ascertain what she thought was funny.

"Something wrong?" He finally asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I just...sometimes you say or do things that remind me so much of Harry that I think it's actually a bit of a wonder that the two of you don't get along. Then you go and say something like that."

Atreus drew himself up to his full height, clearly offended. "What, _Potter?"_

Hermione laughed, unable to help herself, and turned to face the selection of quills, admiring a long pheasant one that had been charmed to improve one's flourishes. "Yes, Harry. He's cleverer than you give him credit for, you know. Sometimes I honestly think he might have made a good Slytherin."

Atreus snorted disbelievingly, and selected a standard package of five uncharmed goose quills, carefully eyeing the tips for deficiencies. "He's good at potions, I'll give him that, but I doubt he'd last a day in Slytherin."

Hermione tried not to visibly wince. Keeping Harry's potions perfidy a secret from Atreus had been getting increasingly harder and more troubling as the year went on. "You might be surprised," she said instead, copying Atreus' selection, and adding the pheasant quill as well.

"His Muggle family aren't exactly the open and warm sort. He spent a good portion of his childhood sneaking about and snooping in through their things; playing with his cousin's toys when the family was out. Then he got here, and from what I've seen, Professor Dumbledore has only encouraged his bad habits. I don't think Harry even realises that it's wrong to invade people's privacy the way he does, he only feels bad when he gets caught. Then, too, he also is convinced he's going to save the wizarding world from an evil dictator. You have to admit that's an ambitious goal. The place where it all derails for him is that he doesn't always remember to take clever planning as seriously as he should."

Atreus threw up his free hand as they made their way back to the cashier and paid for their quills. "Alright, alright, he's not quite as awful as I first thought. I've been trying, haven't I?" He groused. "I went to Zonkos with you lot last Hogsmeade weekend and didn't hex either one of them. Can we not talk about Potter?"

Hermione laughed and then abruptly shivered when the cold, November air hit them outside the shop again. "Honeydukes?"

"Yes, you need another sugar quill."

"I do?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused, "Why?"

The look Atreus gave her in return was positively lecherous. "Let's just say I'm masochistic and love watching the way you eat them."

Hermione blinked, recalling the way she typically devoured sugar quills, nibbling at the delicate sugary feathers edges until only the shaft was left to suck like a lolly, and then blushed as she realised that was precisely the part he was most likely referring to.

"I swear," she told him haughtily, "you can make the most innocent thing about sex."

"I guarantee you, there isn't a bloke at Hogwarts who doesn't buy his girlfriend sugar quills on purpose," Severus defended firmly. "It's one of my favourite things to think about when I... well, you know."

Hermione grimaced, then laughed helplessly. "No, really?"

"Hmmm." He gave her a sideways glance, as if unsure he should say it, then answered, "Well, obviously it's lately been mostly about your tits now that you've let me see them."

"Atreus!"

"No one's listening! Besides, you have to admit you'd probably be a bit offended if I _didn't_ think about your tits." He gave her jumper a fond look, obviously picturing them through the cloth. "They're absolutely perfect, you know, all soft and round and just… perfect." He sighed, "I've been imagining getting your shirt off again ever since. This time all the way off, so I can really see and play with them properly. I don't think I've wanked so much in my life as this last week."

"Atreus, stop talking about it, you're embarrassing me!" she hissed.

He grinned. "Only if you let me buy you a box of sugar quills and watch you eat every single one."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, then thought about how much fun it would be to torture Atreus Prince with a sugar quill right in the middle of History of Magic. "Done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Did you miss me? ;-)
> 
> Addendum added 02/13/2016: It has been brought to my attention that I have not updated the readers that might be interested on the status of my latest pregnancy: I am currently just about to enter my third trimester, and it's a girl. :-)


	26. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
**   
By: TycheSong

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five:** _(In which futures are discussed and a party attended)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 23 November 1996, 1:14 PM_

"Are you planning to go to Slughorn's Christmas party?" Severus tried to pose the question nonchalantly, as if he didn't really care one way or the other, then inwardly sighed as it came out _too_ casual. He really hated being so transparently needy, even though he'd come to trust that Hermione was not the manipulative sort. Thankfully, the day was relatively nice and the Ravenclaw common room was nearly empty. Only a few third-years were playing a game of some kind on the other side of the room, not paying attention to them in the least.

To Severus' relief, Hermione didn't seem to realise. Her answering look was surprised. "I had assumed you'd be my date, actually." She hesitated, then asked, "Did you not want to go? I know you don't care for Professor Slughorn much, or the Slug Club."

Severus lifted a shoulder. "I suppose," he mumbled, "if _you_ want to attend." He did want to go to the party. Quite badly, to be honest, though he would rather not have to admit that to anyone. Professor Slughorn had an extensive network of friends and contacts who were rumoured to be coming: ministry officials, important business owners, and even a professional Quidditch player or two. Going to Slughorn's Christmas Party was _the_ event to see and be seen at this year; the benefits of being a Slug Club member—or the date of one—paid off with dividends.

Another sideways glance at Hermione through his hair had him sighing a little. She had relaxed back against the couch next to him, but had a troubled look on her face, as if _she_ were not entirely certain she wanted to go.

"It's a bit galling," Severus admitted quietly. Hermione's attention snapped back to him, a confused look on her face, and he awkwardly explained. "Professor Slughorn has a knack for networking. He chooses the students that he knows will do well after Hogwarts, and connects them to each other, to the important people he's taught before, and to the most promising generations that come after. He's the very epicentre of the 'old school tie' of the British wizarding world.

"I've always wanted to be something...more. I'm smart, Hermione. Smarter than most of the people at this school, I think. I've always told myself that I just need to get through school, get the best marks, and someday...someday everyone would see it, too. I've blamed Slughorn's lack of vision in me on being the poor, ugly, half-blood son of a witch who gave up her right to the name."

He shrugged a little and met Hermione's eyes. "My mum was a member of the Slug Club, when she was in school. Obviously, she didn't pan out for him," Severus said bitterly. "Instead of being...whatever it was he saw in her, she left the wizarding world entirely, married a Muggle, and didn't even protest when my father burnt her wand. She died young, especially for a witch. So I decided that it was her fault—my parents' fault that I didn't gain the notice, the connections I felt I should have had. I decided I'd have to just make the important connections on my own. I was so proud when Lucius Malfoy took notice and informed me that I might just maybe be worth his time, and therefore the time of Lord...You-Know-Who."

Severus laughed self-deprecatingly, then looked away, choosing to hide behind his hair and stare at his hands instead. He felt stripped bare, admitting this to her. "You're a chosen member of his precious club, of course. Professor Slughorn would be an absolute, blind fool not to include you. But me…" Severus squirmed uncomfortably. "As an adult I turned out to be a powerful wizard, but I didn't protect the only person I cared about. I barely escaped time in Azkaban. And all I do is hide away in a school dungeon and teach potions because of it all. I never became anything at all, and Professor Slughorn was justified in ignoring me.

"Now...now I can start over. I'm thought to be pure-blooded, my teeth are straight, I've got top marks and I even have a girlfriend. Not just any girlfriend, but a _pretty_ one, whose intellect matches mine and _is_ the best student in the school." Severus peeked out through his hair to see how his compliment landed, and was gratified to see a pleased look steal across Hermione's face before her expression settled back into attentive concern.

Severus sighed, not wanting to continue, then painfully pushed the words out. "But even with all these changes, I _still_ don't rate." He caught her eyes again, and finished softly. "It's difficult to admit that it isn't anyone's fault but mine. I am, perhaps, simply not good enough and never will be."

Hermione shook her head and threw her arms around him fiercely. "Yes, you _are._ You are most certainly good enough for anything and anyone, Atreus! You are so smart, and I'd trust you to guard my back in a duel over anyone else, even Harry.

"I think we should go to the party, even though Professor Slughorn is a bit of a bore. We'll meet important people and stick our noses in the air if anyone so much as hints that we shouldn't be there." Her chin lifted as if to punctuate her statement, giving him such a falsely supercilious look that Severus couldn't help but snort in laughter and hug her tightly against him again.

Hermione snuggled into his chest and murmured, "Someday this whole stupid war will be over, and we're going to show everyone we're both good enough for anything. Even if you're not a Slug Club member and I'm a Mudblood."

Her words were like a healing balm on his raw, exposed insecurities, even as the final word made him flinch. "Don't call yourself that," he said gruffly. "I don't like...Please, just don't."

She pulled back from his arms briefly and gave him an intense look. "I know it's supposed to be a horrific slur, but in the end it's just a word. If that's the worst insult that my adversaries can come up with…" She snickered. "It's really silly, when you think about it. Calling me a Mudblood is tantamount to saying that they can't find anything about me that's _actually_ inadequate." To Severus' surprise, her lip trembled briefly. "I love my parents; more than they will ever know." Her chin lifted. "I won't let a stupid word meant to insult the people I love make me feel like I'm worthless."

Severus returned her stare, desperately wanting to dip into her thoughts and see if she _really_ meant it. It wasn't often that he was at a loss for words, but doubt, past regret and a strange hope that he couldn't really explain warred inside him. He cleared his throat, trying to unstick his vocabulary, then cleared it again. "What if… What if it was Potter who called you that? Or Weasley? You know, a friend. You really wouldn't be angry?"

Hermione's brows furrowed, surprise clearly writ on her face. "Well, yes, of course I would be. That's a bit different; they're my friends. I wouldn't expect that sort of behaviour from them, and after everything, they'd deserve the hex I'd give them." She shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time one or the other has been a complete prat, though. I'm sure we'd eventually get over it, so long as the idiot who said it didn't actually mean it."

Severus mulled her words over. According to the professor, Lily had not forgiven him, nor had she accepted his friendship again. Did Hermione simply have a rosy outlook because it hadn't actually happened to her, or was it just a fundamental difference between the two girls despite sharing the same background and house? He was fairly sure that he would never repeat such a horrid mistake, but he couldn't help but be hopeful that if he _were_ to lash out in anger in some way it wouldn't automatically mean the complete destruction of their relationship.

Uneasy, Severus hugged the girl in his arms and steered the conversation back to safer grounds. "What exactly do you want to do when you graduate?"

Hermione settled deeper into the couch, tucking her head against his shoulder. After a moment she groaned in indecision. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. We had career consultations with our heads of house last year, but it wasn't very enlightening. There is _so much_ that sounds interesting, and I couldn't really narrow it down. Ten or fifteen minutes with one person isn't very long to gather information, much less multiple options. It's unfortunate that Hogwarts doesn't really have a career fair for its N.E.W.T. students to attend," she groused.

She was quiet for a long minute, then said thoughtfully, "Possibly a barrister? There is a lot of Ministry legislation I'd like to change, or at least challenge. Especially in relation to other magical beings or minorities like elves and Muggleborns. I also like the idea of being a Healer. Not the garden variety kind that fixes broken bones and hands out sweets, though. More of the sort that's in a highly specialised field or doing trial research—like whatever the wizarding version of a neurologist is, you know? I also really like Arithmancy. It might be fun to work with that in some way, though I'm not entirely sure _how."_

"Hmmm. Ambitious of you." He smiled into her hair, unsurprised her aspirations were so high. He did not ask whether she also saw herself starting a family. He hoped the answer would be no. Though she'd be brilliant at it. But at least not right away. Not that he would necessarily _mind_ having a kid. Maybe. Someday. His heart fluttered nervously, and his nerves pricked with a slight edge of panic. Not anytime soon of course. Hades, was he _really_ considering all _that? Now?_ He wasn't even legally an adult yet, and he was practically buying a picket fence.

Thankfully, Hermione continued on, her pragmatic discussion of her future calming him down as nothing else could have. "Absolutely. Makes choosing your N.E.W.T. classes hard, though. I'd rather not do the Time-Turner route again, but if I don't choose a career soon, my chances of picking the right electives are shot straight to hell. I'm already taking a chance dropping Care of Magical Creatures. It's rather necessary if I want to work in the Magical Creatures and Beings Department. How about you?"

"Me?" Severus repeated stupidly.

She shifted in his arms to look up at him quizzically. "Yes, you. What do _you_ want to do when you 'grow-up'?" Her fingers cocked in air-quotes as she said it.

He smiled, and admitted, a little shyly, "I think it would be interesting to go into private warding and security. Setting up or breaking down wards and rites on important buildings, objects and homes of the wealthy for a really, _really_ hefty sum. I like the idea of curse-breaking, but not working for someone else's firm or taking the chance that I'll get used as a Rent-an-Auror. I'd probably make an exception for Gringotts—their security measures are legendary." He chuckled softly. "I've always been good at defence and, uh, let's call them _morally grey_ spells. Doing something like that would be an actual, legitimate way to play with curses, blood magic and general mind-fuckery," he joked.

Hermione giggled and punched his thigh with a fist, pretending exasperation. "It would suit you, but it would be a really unfortunate waste of incredible Potions talent. You made a potion that duplicated yourself and _time-travelled_ before your sixth year, Atreus! The IPGA would probably collectively cry if they knew."

Severus chuckled softly, pleased. "Maybe I'll do both. It would be fun to work with experimental potions." His nose wrinkled and he glanced down at her. "I don't want to do something mundane like manufacturing or having a dinky apothecary.

"I could see myself having a high-end, made-to-order sort of business. Like an apothecary for strictly difficult potions that most people can't make or afford, but will always have a market. Stuff like _Felix Felicis_ or _Oculi Aquilae._ Or doing research." Severus paused thoughtfully, thinking of the professor's own research, _Sangre de Drago,_ and the wealth of other plants that only existed in the South American rainforests. "There have been some incredible discoveries in the last twenty years that I'd like to explore more."

Hermione traced a small circle on his knee with her index finger. "I'll bet there are plenty of people Slughorn's invited who would be good backers or customers for either venture."

"So...we're definitely going, then."

"Hmm. Yes. We're going. Even worse..." Hermione glanced up and gave him a mocking look of despair, "I think we're going to have _fun,_ Atreus."

The third years on the other end of the common room looked up, startled, as Severus threw back his head and laughed.

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 20 December 1996, 7:44 PM_

Severus anxiously shifted his weight outside the portrait-door of the Gryffindor common room, feeling unaccountably nervous. He had never been invited to, much less attended a proper, formal party before. The brand-new dress robes he was currently wearing were the first he had ever owned.

The professor had kept him after class three weeks previously, eyed him with distaste, and then curtly informed him that he would be receiving a parcel from a tailor for the occasion. The older man had looked down his nose and added with a sneer, _"It occurred to me that you likely do not have the appropriate garments and your presentation, of course, reflects upon my… guardianship. Do_ try _to keep them clean until then."_

Shocked into stillness, Severus had only been able to nod and quickly thank the professor before another irritated look had sent him swiftly retreating from his older self's classroom. "It had occurred," indeed. Perhaps Professor Flitwick had said something. As Atreus' head of house, he probably noticed such things as a matter of course.

Nervously, Severus turned his attention back to the portrait in front of him, rolling his shoulders slightly. He wasn't entirely certain what to expect, but he had practiced his "stunned surprised" look a couple of times before heading over. He might not have ever had a girlfriend or gone to a formal party before, but even he knew that girls expected their dates to be blinded by their beauty when they made the effort to dress up.

He had seen a few other party-goers on his way from Ravenclaw tower to Gryffindor tower, and was at a loss to understand what the current style might be. Luna, who had left the tower approximately the same time he had to meet Potter, had appeared to be wearing a chandelier. There had been another Gryffindor couple he had passed, and the girl's dress had been so tight and scant, he was certain it was only held in place with Spell-o-Tape and luck.

The portrait door finally swung open, and there she was. She was...radiant. Beautiful, sexy and so unbelievably _different_ than _his_ Hermione, he was a little scared to touch her. Her rich blue dress was suitably tasteful for an adult party, with a flirty full-skirted hem falling to her knees and a modest neckline. It made her collarbones look delicious and lickable—an area he had never considered sexy before. She'd done something to her hair—gods only knew _what_ —but her riot of generally over-brushed corkscrews were shiny and defined, pulled back into a loose chignon and looking as elegant as the rest of her.

She pursed her lips for a moment, and Severus belatedly realised that he was just standing there with his mouth ajar; he hadn't given her his practiced look or said anything at all. Scrambling to recover, he said quickly, "You look...incredible, amazing...I...wow."

A tiny smile graced her reddened lips. "Thank you. Do you think you might help me down, though? I don't much fancy sitting on the edge of the portrait where everyone's feet go, and I haven't quite mastered the art of jumping out in heels like some of the others. Honestly it's not fair. The other houses get actual doors."

"Oh, of course!" Severus hurried over and extended his arms to help her out of the portrait. She gratefully leaned into his support, and Severus suddenly realised that he had misjudged her dress horribly. The frock that had appeared so demure in the front _plunged_ in a deep, wide V in the back, revealing almost the entire length of her spine. It was so unexpectedly sexy that he had trouble formulating thoughts.

Her grin widened. "You like? The rest of it is so dainty, Ginny reckoned it wouldn't be too much."

"No, not too much at all...it's...you're...Christ, Hermione."

She giggled. "Compliments _and_ Muggle swearing." She sighed happily. "Success!"

He offered his arm, the way he'd seen others do when escorting ladies to events, and Hermione tucked her hand into his elbow.

Professor Slughorn's office, already overly large and opulent by office standards, had been enlarged even further. The two of them entered and stopped short, taking in the sight of tent-like hangings, flickering red fairy-lights, roving drink trays and haze of pipe smoke. Then Hermione muttered, "Good lord," and they both dissolved into chortles. "I swear, usually his gatherings are more tastefully decorated," she gasped.

Severus waved a hand. "At any moment I expect burlesque dancers and cigar girls." Amused with himself, he found the scantily clad girl he'd seen on McLaggen's arm earlier and pointed her out. "Ah, there's one, now." Helplessly, Hermione laughed again. Severus grinned, feeling like a king. "Shall we mingle, drink the free champagne and pretend we're in a twenties club?"

Face flushed, she smiled up at him, "Let's." They meandered further in, and Severus found himself locking gazes with Professor Snape across the room. His older self grimaced slightly and his eyes slid to Hermione. His gaze was distinctly disapproving; almost angry. Unnerved, Severus snagged two glasses of champagne and handed one to Hermione, resolving to ignore the older man and his blatant dislike of his girlfriend. Oblivious to the exchange, Hermione continued to wander with him through the room, and after a moment, she tilted her chin and said, "Look, there's Harry. Is that...is that a _vampire_ with him?"

Severus glanced in the direction she was indicating, and saw that indeed, Potter was standing next to a man who looked distinctly vampiric. "He certainly looks the part, doesn't he? Perhaps we should avoid that corner. He looks peckish." Hermione looked like she might protest, her curiosity clear, but reluctantly allowed him to steer her towards an elderly witch talking with the most heavily-tattooed wizard Severus had ever seen. Colourful ink in a myriad of lined patterns, runes and glyphs covered his hands and incongruously bare arms, and climbed up from under the collar of his sleeveless shirt to wrap around the left side of his neck. There was even a small tattoo on his right cheekbone, a runic symbol denoting master-class status in his chosen field.

"Unless I miss my guess, you'll be interested in meeting these two." Severus murmured. Hermione looked at him with a puzzled, disbelieving look, and he explained. "A wizard with that much ink can only mean one thing. I'll eat my boots if he isn't an artist, and trust me, a wizard with a mastery in tattoo artistry is someone you will at least find interesting." Hermione still looked skeptical, but followed him.

The elderly witch was gesticulating firmly as she spoke. "It's not that I don't appreciate your work, Ashton, you know I have the highest regard for your talent and skill. I wouldn't have let anyone else do mine. But even you must admit that the Ministry doesn't regulate your field the way it should."

The wizard grimaced. "Yes, that is exactly what I would like as an artist, more laws and red tape stifling my creativity," he answered sarcastically.

The witch shook her head. "The regulations that are already there aren't being enforced. There are too many artists who think that because they can shade a dragon beautifully and happened to take an O.W.L. in Runes, it qualifies them to do bindings and lines under the table."

"I know it happens, I've been told as much, but I just can't imagine anyone stupid enough to have an unlicensed artist do _runework."_ The wizard was clearly appalled.

"A lot of idiot decisions are made in order to save a galleon or two. Just two weeks ago I had a young couple admitted who had decided the best way to help maintain their wedding budget was hiring an unlicensed artist to do binding tattoos. The fellow in question took artistic liberties at the couple's request, but instead of the usual bindings, he tattooed the grace and fidelity runes as mirror imaging, so that one set was _in negative._ By the time they got to St. Mungo's, the groom was half dead from magic depletion and irretrievably bound in servitude to the bride.

"A month before _that,_ we had a girl who had got herself some ward tattoos from _gods_ know where, and had actually managed to make herself so soul-sick that we had to call in a specialist from Azkaban. When she finally regained consciousness and was asked where she had gotten them, the moron looked pleased and bragged about how little the damn thing had cost."

"Beg pardon," Severus interrupted, "we couldn't help but overhear. You, sir, are a Master Class artist, are you not?"

The wizard inclined his head, and said politely, "Leo Ashton, at your service. This is Madam Alayna Chatham, Healer-In-Charge of Saint Mungo's Spell Damage ward. Are the two of you interested in my services or my field in general?"

Severus bowed. "I am Atreus Prince. Allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Hermione Granger."

The wizard studied Hermione appraisingly, and then pulled out a pad of paper and a sketch pencil, working quickly to create a design. As he worked, he said idly, "Horace has mentioned you—Muggleborn, are you not? Yes? Allow me to explain, then.

"Anyone can be an artist, of course, though the demand for strictly artistic tattoos is not as prevalent in the wizarding world as the Muggle. To make a real living as an artist, one has to be licensed for rune work. Runic tattoos are used in most binding contracts—marriages, adoptions, apprenticeships, House-elf bindings, personal wards, power augmenting and bindings, and even large business deals. It can be very dangerous, however. Tattoos are permanent. If one does not understand runes extremely well, the consequences can be horrific. Licensing in runic work requires a difficult apprenticeship, just like any other magical trade."

He studied his completed drawing for a moment, and then handed it to Hermione and lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her to comment.

Hermione took it, her eyes widening as she noticed the details. "This is...this is so _elegant._ It's very traditional Celtic, but you've included, what, three different rune alphabets without compromising the design! It doesn't look dry or boring, no wasted lines…" Hermione shook her head and said wistfully, "with more study I could learn to do rune lines like this, perhaps, but not with this degree of beauty. I'm afraid I'm not incredibly artistic."

The wizard looked pleased with her praise, and responded mildly, "Artistry is the first requirement of being an _artist_ I'm afraid. Still, it is always an unexpected pleasure to find someone who can see the elegance of a merged runeline without added flourishes to disguise it." He inclined his head again. "Perhaps professional warding would be a good fit for you. Or," he gave his companion an amused look, "healing the botched attempts of the unlicensed."

"It is a path I'm considering," Hermione admitted, giving Healer Chatham a shy look. "I'm particularly interested in medical research or specialising."

The healer's lips quirked. "Arithmancy and Runes will be excellent in furthering that ambition, but you'll not likely get into a healing program without good marks and an excellent understanding of both Charms and Potions."

Hermione beamed. "I took top O.W.L.s in both; I expect to do well on my N.E.W.T.s—"

A sudden commotion by the entrance cut her off, and they all turned to see Draco Malfoy at the door, looking sulky, his arm caught firmly in Mr. Filch's grasp. "—trying to gatecrash, alright?"

Professor Slughorn had made his way over to them, jovially inviting Malfoy to stay, to Filch's clear disappointment. Slughorn was cut short by Professor Snape joining them, the disapproval in his features palpable. Severus drifted closer, attempting to hear. In short order the professor left the party, Malfoy in tow.

Severus wasn't the only one whose attention had been caught by the minor altercation. Many in the room had taken notice, and were murmuring about it. With a start, Severus realised his date had snagged Potter by the arm and seemed to be having a furiously whispered debate.

Curious, Severus approached and nodded toward the other boy. "Potter. What's going on?"

Potter pursed his lips mutinously, and glared half-heartedly at Hermione, who only raised her eyebrows as if to say, _"Well?"_

"I don't think Malfoy was just trying to gatecrash. I think he's up to something, and Snape knows what. Hermione thinks I should just leave it alone, but I want to find out what is going on between those two."

Remembering the memory he had eavesdropped on a few weeks earlier, Severus shrugged a little and nodded. "I agree, actually." He looked at Hermione meaningfully. "I would be interested in knowing, too."

Potter looked torn for a moment, trying to decide if he should trust Severus' support, then nodded.

"Ugh, be _careful,_ Harry." Hermione rolled her eyes in resignation.

Severus quirked his lips and added, "Try not to get caught."

Potter grinned back like he was telling a particularly funny joke. "Don't worry about me; I've got it covered." He quickly disappeared after the professor and Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you, everyone, for being patient as the real world took over my life for a while. The last three months (April in particular) have been quite difficult. I lost a family member, had some semi-serious pregnancy complications, and finally, I am happy to report the birth of Wee Tiny Song #2 on May 17. Happy Norwegian Independence Day to me. :-)
> 
> I am also humbled and proud to say that this story has broken 1000 reviews on FFN...something that I would never have imagined happening when I started this story. Thank you so, so much everyone! Special thanks and chocolate in particular to Adelaide Archer and Stguik for taking the time to make my words presentable for readers. I'm blown away by the love you have all shown. Please tell me your thoughts on the latest chapter, if you are so inclined. -Tyche


	27. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six:** _(In which Severus makes contacts, then a confession and then liberties are taken upon his person)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 20 December 1996, 9:11 PM_

Severus watched Potter disappear out the door after Malfoy and Professor Snape, then turned back to relocate his date. She had resumed her conversation with Healer Chatham, her expression enchantingly animated with her excitement. Smiling a little to himself, Severus didn't interrupt, instead glancing about to see who else was in attendance.

He noted several ministry officials, a middle-aged couple with matching competitive duelling championship rings and a young woman surrounded by a ring of students; she was most likely the Quidditch player that had been rumoured to attend. Helping himself to an hors d'oeuvre, Severus made his way to the duelling champions, deciding they would know best of any legitimate curse-breaking opportunities.

The man smiled in welcome as he approached, prompting his female companion to turn to greet him as well, her warm voice accented. "Hello, there. What's your name?"

"Atreus. Atreus Prince."

The man nodded."Ah, Prince. An old and distinguished family. I went to school with a Miss Eileen Prince, a couple of years ahead of me--a relation of yours?"

Severus nodded his head in a half bow. "My...grandmother. You knew her as well, madam?" 

The woman shook her head, laughing merrily. "Good heavens, grandmother! Kerry, we are getting old." She turned and readdressed Severus. "I'm afraid I never had the pleasure. I went to the Kadnikov Konservatoriya; my family is Ukrainian. I am Ilona; this is my husband Kerry." She smiled fondly at the man. "We met on the competitive duelling circuit."

"It was love at first sight," Kerry sighed dramatically. "I was so busy staring at the pretty opposition that she knocked me arse over ears before I'd realised the Arbiter had given signal. Embarrassed the hell out of the UK team. I hadn't thought Flitwick could get any smaller." He shot a soulful look at his wife. "Ilona was heartless and merciless; it took me months to convince her I was worth her time. In the end, however, I won fair lady," he teased. "And now we compete in the doubles rather than single combat. A man can only take so much humiliation at the hands of such a beauty."

Illona shook her head. "He is overly romantic and prone to dramatics. I thought he was ridiculous, or perhaps mocking me. Tell me, Atreus, do you duel?"

"Fairly well. I would say I am one of the better duellists in my year." Severus tried to sound modest.

"I do not doubt it," Kerry said genially. "Horace rarely bothers with less than the best."

Severus didn't correct him, instead choosing to nod as if the assumption were his due. "I enjoy it. I'd like to work in private security, someday," he fished. "Or curse-breaking--that would be interesting."

Ilona laughed, her voice tinkling. "A man after my own heart! Kerry is an auror, and I work as head of security for Shafiq & Savage Imports."

Interested, Severus asked, "How did you get started in that?" 

"I bounced around quite a lot," Ilona said dryly. "I started as an auror, then I met Kerry. In the early eighties, the government in the Ukraine was very unstable, so when Kerry asked me to stay here with him, I was easily convinced."

 _"Easily con--!_ It took _months."_ Kerry protested.

Ilona gave her husband a quelling look, and continued. "That was 1984. I taught Defence here at Hogwarts for a year, then worked security for several establishments and companies. Eventually I was offered the position at S&SI."

"I see." Severus smiled ruefully. "I would rather not be an auror, I think."

"Wise, with You-Know-Who back." Kerry said dryly. "I would rather not be an auror right now, as well. It was bad enough the first time; though it does not seem to have escalated to the level of mayhem and murder that it was before, yet. You are too young to remember, but that last year… he and his Death Eaters got to be quite blood thirsty."

"Atreus, there you are!" Hermione suddenly appeared at his side, and with a small, wiggling movement, managed to situate herself under his arm. Unable to help himself, Severus found himself smiling faintly down at her and stroking the soft skin of her shoulder.

Still looking down, Severus introduced her. "Kerry, Ilona, this is Hermione, my girlfriend." He glanced up again just in time to see Kerry grin broadly.

"Ah, what an enchanting young lady. And look at him, as besotted with her as I was with you. Young love is so thrilling and enjoyable to see."

Severus felt his cheeks burn and desperately worked his suddenly bone-dry mouth. _Besotted? Love?_ He had felt a rather sneaking suspicion that he might feel that way, but it hadn't been something he was really ready to admit to himself, much less anyone else. Particularly not Hermione. Years of unrequited emotion, of knowing _precisely_ how unattractive he was, had made him rather comfortable with leaving emotional elephants stubbornly ignored.

He tried to generate the moisture to protest, but the only thing that came out was a weak little "eghh--" that sounded decidedly girlish. He swallowed again.

Ilona's eyes rolled and she smacked her husband's arm. "Oh, stop it, Kerry. You're embarrassing them. It's unkind."

Kerry’s expression became wounded. "A little embarrassment, it is good for a lad. Builds character. Why else would I have let you knock me on my arse the first time I laid eyes on you?"

"Oh-ho! So now you _let_ me, did you?"

"Of course!" Kerry's chin lifted belligerently, his tone clearly teasing.

There was a small tug on his arm, and Severus found himself being drawn away by Hermione from the still-bantering couple to one of the quieter corners of the room. The night was clear for the first time in weeks, the moon a fat, waxing gibbous that seemed to pour through the window and pick out threads of silver in Hermione's dress. She really was unbearably lovely, almost ethereal. Severus licked his lips, uncertain of what to say to recover from his embarrassment without making the situation worse.

Before he could come up with anything, Hermione spoke instead, staring out the window. "It's beautiful, isn't it? Much bigger and brighter, though it still won't reach perihelion until the end of March or early April," she said quietly. "We haven't been able to see it lately; there has been so much cloud cover."

Reluctantly, Severus turned away from his date to follow her own gaze. She was looking at Hale Bopp, the same comet he had lured her to the roof of Number Twelve on their first date. She was right; it definitely looked as a comet should now, a small, roundish streak of silver overhead.

"It is beautiful," he agreed softly. "It is difficult to understand why the ancients believed them portents of doom."

"I bet you five galleons that if you asked Trelawney, it still is," Hermione muttered.

Severus couldn't help but snort a little in laughter. "Sure, if it crashed into us. It's amazing to think that something so delicate is really blazing and hurtling through space at upwards of 90,000 miles every hour. So much power and fuel and all we see is a brilliant smudge in the sky."

Hermione took a deep breath next to him, and appeared to fortify herself. "Perceptions are not always the truth. I know that. I understand that the auror was teasing you, I'm not expecting you to, well, anything," she fumbled, and then turned to look at him, her expression shy and slightly fearful. "We've been together almost five months, if you don't include that three day break at the start of the year, and I don't."

She shrugged awkwardly. "That's a while. I care about you, Atreus. A lot. I think...I think I might be falling in love with you." Her voice picked up urgency as she rushed to add, "I'm not trying to force you to reciprocate; it's okay if you don't. And I'd rather you didn't say you do if you don't. I just… I want you to know, is all." Her head ducked and her arms wrapped around herself as if she were keeping herself from flying apart.

Severus' breath left him in a heavy _whoosh._ "I…um, I'm glad." He was eyeing her obliquely as he said it, and saw her wince a little. For all her assertions of not wanting him to say it back if he didn't feel the same, his answer had clearly stung a little. Squirming, but knowing he needed to confess, Severus added, "I'd hate to be in this alone."

Her gaze snapped to his, her brown eyes searching. They really were an ordinary, forgettable sort of brown, he mused. They were too dark to be called whisky and too light to be called chocolate. All of the varying flecks within them were also brown, only a shade or two off. There was nothing that would make Hermione Granger's eyes stand out in particular. Yet somehow they were the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen. Lovelier than Giselle Dolohov's unusual pale blue-violet, or even Lily's brilliant jewel-green. 

Hermione, herself, was simply the loveliest girl he'd ever known. The thought brought with it a sharp pang of panic that quickly settled into a curious sense of relief. A part of him had been feeling so guilty about not mourning Lily "enough," about moving on with his life and _not_ sinking into depression. Now the feelings of guilt and remorse over the broken relationship, the bitter hatred of his bullies was simply...faded. Thinking about them now just made him feel tired and a bit regretful. 

In the new life he had been given he wasn't and likely never would be popular, but he wasn't defending himself from malicious hexing everyday, either. And he wasn't alone. Severus gazed down at the liquid brown of her eyes, not quite believing what was happening.

Whatever Hermione saw in Severus' own eyes, it seemed to convince her that he was genuine. She threw herself into his arms and hugged tightly, not even seeming to mind that her perfectly coiffed hair was loosening. Curls escaped and brushed against his cheek even as soft, warm lips pressed lightly against his neck, just under his ear. A shiver ran down his spine with the sensual kiss, raising goosebumps.

"If you are done here, I think I'd like to leave. Somewhere with a bit more privacy, if you don't mind?" Her breathy words were laden with meaning, and it felt as though they tightened every muscle he possessed.

Suddenly excruciatingly aware of how restrictive his trousers were, Severus barely stifled a groan, clearing his throat instead. He wrapped an arm around her waist, rapidly assessing the quickest route through the crowd and out the door. It took him less than a minute to guide her out, the soft skin of her back seeming to burn under his hand. He thought quickly. Both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Towers were further and less private than the suite in teachers' wing they had hijacked; but it was still two long hallways and a flight of stairs away.

Flashing her a devilish grin, he grabbed her hand and broke into a jog, his smile widening further when he heard her startled and delighted laugh. They ran through the hall together, hand in hand, more of her pins loosening with each step. She was glorious; he couldn't help but think it. Her skin was flushed and her hair was a wild tumble of curls, her eyes sparkling in the shared enjoyment of being improper in very proper clothes.

He kissed her in the stairwell as they waited for the staircase to align properly, pressing her against the wall. She was already a bit breathless, her mouth teasing and tasting faintly of sweets and champagne. His hands slid over the satin of her dress, palming the fabulous breasts he knew were hidden under it. Her hands were also busy, unknotting his tie and releasing the catch of his robes so that both just hung about his shoulders. It felt like something from a Bond film, he thought deliriously. A beautiful, sexy girl was madly snogging him in a castle, tugging at his formalwear impatiently and smearing lipstick on his collar as she nipped at his throat. 

He stroked her back and tangled his hands in her thoroughly messed curls, enjoying the way she sighed softly into his mouth. A little whinging noise of want escaped her, and Severus ground his erection against her hip helplessly. Her mouth broke from his and she panted, "Atreus… the stairs…"

Turning to see that they were now aligned properly, Severus grabbed her hand and took off again, this time laughing with her as they climbed and she momentarily stumbled in her heels. A moment later she had them off and dangling from one hand as they continued upwards. As soon as they reached the top he caught her against the wall again, his mouth invading hers, one hand stroking her cheek as the other snaked around her to knead the round curve of her bottom.

Her own arms had wrapped around his neck, her right hand still holding her delicate shoes by the straps while her left twined through his own hair and rubbing against his scalp. A throat cleared loudly behind him, and they both turned to see a portrait glaring indignantly. Severus flashed him an annoyed look and flicked a V, grasping Hermione's hand to take off down the hall again.

Behind them, the portrait gasped self-righteously, and Hermione exclaimed, "Atreus!" No doubt trying to sound horrified and failing spectacularly as she giggled. 

He slowed as they rounded the corner into the hallway that housed most of the staff quarters and spun, grinning. "He's a wanking prude," he insisted, drawing her in to kiss her again. 

"Atreus…" She drew his name out. "We'll get caught here. We're almost there."

Rolling his eyes, Severus palmed open the door to the suite and pulled her in, closing the door with slightly more force than was necessary as he backed her into it. In moments he had the straps of her dress pulled forward off her shoulders, causing the whole bodice to fall to her waist. She wasn't wearing a bra and he stared openly, grinning at her rosy skin.

"No bra," he murmured, thumbing the little pink nipples softly.

"No back," she countered, gasping softly. "Couldn't wear one."

"Good," he growled, dipping his head to taste her breasts for the first time.

To his delight, she moaned softly as his tongue swiped across her left nipple, her hips shifting restlessly when he then closed around it and sucked softly. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, and the sensation of her grasping fingers and soft, sweet skin nearly drove him insane. He straightened, filling each palm with a breast to knead and kissed her hungrily. Her hips shuddered against his, and unable to help himself, he rubbed against her in return. The pressure against his cock was incredible.

She broke their kiss just long enough to whisper, "Not against the wall, I don't want to fall over again."

Severus nodded and guided her across the small sitting room into the adjacent bedchamber, discarding his dress robes and tie as he went. He immediately found her mouth again and started tugging at the dress, attempting to get it all the way off, but was distracted when the buttons on his shirt suddenly loosened simultaneously and her hands slid over his bare chest and stomach. He slid a hand down her arm to take her wand away and toss it aside. 

He went back to removing the dress, alternating between kissing her mouth and her nipples, stroking with his tongue and nibbling at her throat and shoulder. In short order he had her down to her knickers and stockings. He stepped back for a moment, drinking in all her curves, the way her breasts quivered with each short breath and the dark patch of cloth on her knickers indicating her own arousal.

"Fuck me, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life," he breathed. "I want to make love to you so badly it hurts." He palmed his erection through his trousers, desperately trying to ease the ache there. Tentatively he lifted his hands again, caressing along her waist to fill his palms with the soft, warm weight of her breasts. "These are perfect," he whispered. "A perfect handful each." He lifted each one gently in turn to kiss the tips and nuzzle them. 

Hermione eased back slightly, her eyes flicking down to his cock. Her voice hesitant as if nervous to deny him, she said, "I'm still not sure I'm ready to...you know…" She shrugged a little, the motion lifting and jiggling her breasts marvelously; it was an effort not to beg with need.

Instead Severus drew her back and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "It's fine, it's okay. I just want to hold you, touch you… I would never do anything you didn't want." He whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I--" his throat closed momentarily and he had to clear it to continue. "You are the most important thing in my life. I could never hurt you on purpose."

Her wide, brown eyes searched his for a moment, and daringly, he dipped his thoughts to brush against hers. Her Occlumancy had improved considerably since their first enlightening lesson, though he doubted she could keep him out if he really tried. She recognised his silent request and shyly dropped her shields for him.

Her apprehension was there, both about physical intimacy and about her own appeal. Equally present was her own desire for him. It was a smoulderingly hot burn that felt both sweet and painful. Weaving around both emotions he felt her emotions for him. They were a warm, golden honey that coloured all of her thoughts about him. It was humbling and breathtaking to see and realise. No one had ever thought of him this way. He hadn't believed anyone really could. He had wondered in the past if he was perhaps the only one who ever did feel as intensely about things as he did.

He wasn't, though. She felt that way, too, and about _him._ She admired his intelligence and talent, she found his hands graceful and his nose distinguished of all things. She thought his smile was beautiful. Breathless and awed, Severus nudged her thoughts with his, inviting her to follow the thread back into his own mind. Confident for the first time in his life that she would be pleased with what she found, he eagerly opened his mind and showed her.

He showed her how beautiful he found her, how endearing her own intelligence and study habits were. He lingered over his desire for her, taking care to show her how utterly sexy he found her, how easily and quickly he wanted her and how little interest he had in anyone else.

Her beautiful brown eyes widened, then dropped down between them. To his surprise, her hand gently touched him, running her fingers down his length softly and nearly making him cry with the gentle pleasure of it. "Does it really hurt?"

"Yes," he admitted, tilting his hips slightly to try to increase the pressure of her fingers. Taking his cue, her hand pressed more firmly, shaping around him as best as she could through his trousers. “Well, it aches. Like when you really, really need a muscle massage." 

"Hmmmm," she hummed in acknowledgement.

He groaned softly as she released the catch of his trousers and brushed the two folds of cloth aside to feel him again with only his smalls in the way. 

"You're so hot," she said softly, "and wider than I expected, I think. People only seem to ever talk about length."

He laughed helplessly, his hips continuing to thrust his erection against her hand. His confidence faltered. "You're not disappointed are you? Who is 'they' and how long did you expect it to be?"

She giggled apprehensively. "I don't know. I don't _really_ listen to my roommates. I think anything they've been told is probably inaccurate anyway." She glanced down at where she grasped him gently. "I'm not disappointed, I promise." She took a deep breath, clearly gathering her courage and then her mouth firmed into a familiar stubborn expression. "Take off the rest of your clothes, I want to see." 

_Goddess bless Gryffindors,_ was all he could think as he shucked his garments, forgetting to take his shoes off in his haste. Hermione laughed and he chuckled with her as he sat on the edge of the bed and remedied the situation.

Naked except for his unbuttoned shirt, Severus waited for her opinion a bit anxiously. In the last seven months he hadn't magically become handsome. If anything he'd got even taller and ganglier than when he had first met Hermione. She, on the other hand… she was perfect. He sighed a little, staring at her rosy breasts, lean stomach and softly rounded hips. Her knickers were purple and lacy, and he couldn't help but imagine sliding his fingers under them or removing them entirely. Possibly with his teeth.

"No, I'm not disappointed," Hermione murmured. "How could I be? It is you, and I--" her breath faltered and she shivered a little under his stroking hands, "I really do think I love you, Atreus."

"Severus,” he replied. “Just this once, please call me by my _real_ name."

"Severus," she whispered, lingering over the vowels huskily. "I love you, Severus."

He groaned, moved beyond reason to hear his name on her lips. Hugging her close, he rested his forehead against her shoulder, attempting to hold back the moisture that had suddenly pricked at his eyelids.

Hermione stroked his head softly then said, "Lie back. I want to try something."

Surprised, Severus obeyed, scooting back on the bed and turning to lie propped up on the pillows. She followed, crawling up on the bed with her beautiful breasts jiggling and what he could see of her bum swaying. It took every bit of will he had not to grab his own prick and just _come._ He'd be damned if he was going to allow this to end that quickly if he could help it.

Hermione leaned over until her face was only inches from his thighs, and then tentatively clasped him in one hand. Severus couldn't stop a strangled groan from escaping. Even without as much pressure as he would normally use, her hand still felt much, much better than his ever had on his cock. Severus' eyes slid closed helplessly, enjoying the soft, exploratory pressure of her hands as she caressed him. 

"You're so soft," she whispered. "The skin, I mean. It's the softest I've ever felt. It's a little strange with your penis so hard. I thought...I mean I know the mechanics, but I thought there would be some give," she said.

Clearing his throat, Severus cracked his eyelids open and reiterated hoarsely, "We won't do anything you aren't ready for, Hermione."

"I know." She nodded, then smiled at him wickedly. Then he head suddenly dipped and the flat of her tongue traced a long line from his base to tip, catching his precum on her tongue. 

"Merlin! Oh, _fuck,"_ he choked. "I wasn't expecting that!"

She chuckled, a husky, sexy sound. "No, Severus, not fuck...suck." She corrected, then licked him again, tilting her head slightly to catch him at a different angle. Her tongue was warm and firm, and every nerve in his body seemed to riot at the feeling of it. "You're salty," she informed him, "and sort of musky." She ran her tongue up and down him again, and then lifted up a little to study him again, her hand tightening around him fractionally. 

Severus wrapped his own hand around hers, tightening her grip to the point of glorious pressure that he typically used on himself. "I like it a bit tighter," he instructed, "and then you just…" he rocked their hands up and down, guiding her gently. She quickly got the rhythm, stroking up and down his length to barely brush the head and then back down. "The head's the most sensitive bit." He informed her hopefully.

She gave him a wry look, and then put his instruction to use, catching his foreskin to run over the top of him and smiling when he hissed in pleasure. It felt _so_ good...and then there was that wicked smile flashing at him again, and the head of his cock was being gently suckled in time with her stroking hand.

 _Ah, gods!_ Severus thoughts went spinning wildly. _Oh fuck, oh Circe, Jesus and all his Catholic saints._ It was every Christmas and birthday at once; fire zinged along his nerves and his hips bucked unchecked, gagging her briefly. Her grip tightened to hold him steady, and it made his eyes cross with pleasure, especially when he felt her mouth close around him again. "I'm not going to last any longer," he gasped. "I'm going to… I'm going to come, Hermione. Hermione!" 

His thoughts ceased entirely and his world exploded as his release rocketed through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes? No? Please review. :-)


	28. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:** _(In which there is conversation and the loss of virginity.)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 20 December 1996, 11:38 PM_

Hermione slowly rose up over Severus, the thick and slightly bitter taste of him still on her tongue. It was odd to think of him that way after so many months. His eyes were closed; his lashes looked impossibly long and dark against his pale cheeks. She was determined to not be asinine and ask if she had done it right--he had clearly enjoyed himself. She couldn't help but watch him, however, looking for some indication of approval from him.

Slowly his eyes opened and rewarded her with a sleepy, wondering expression. "That was… _you_ are incredible," he murmured, gently pulling her down on the bed next to him. He frowned a little. "I didn't expect you to, you know."

"I know," Hermione reassured him. "I wanted to. I mean, I was nervous, but I wanted to please you."

"And it was...okay?"

Gratified that he was concerned about her feelings, Hermione answered honestly. "It was not quite what I expected. My jaw is a bit sore, and I didn't expect there to be quite so _much_ of it." She hastily added, "but I did enjoy it, too. I felt powerful, and I rather liked that. I loved the way it made you moan. I think 'Jesus and all his Catholic saints' was my favourite bit." She laughed.

"Oh, hell. I said that out loud?" His pale skin flushed as she nodded. "My father used to say that. He grew up in a very religious family, but after he met my mum... Well, 'thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,' and all that. Then the mill shut down and he lost his job, started drinking and… Mum used to try to get him to go to AA meetings, and he would joke that the alcohol was the remedy, not the disease."

"That sounds like it was hard."

Severus shrugged, his eyes glancing away. "There was a lot of shouting and arguing, but not so bad as Madam Pomfrey used to think. I think she thought my father was abusive, but he wasn't, really. I mean, he smacked or backhanded us a few times. I broke my arm once because of it, but he didn't _mean_ to do that."

Hermione remained silent, not wanting to contradict him by saying that it sounded rather abusive to her. It must be hard to condemn your own father, after all, however much he might deserve it. Severus' gaze caught hers, and he said exasperatedly, "Look, it really wasn't that bad. I knew a kid a street over that almost never went to school because he spent the better half of the year with black eyes. My dad wasn't perfect, but he was mostly alright, so long as I stayed out of the way."

"When did your parents die?" she asked softly, stroking a hand through his hair.

"My mum died last year... Well, you know what I mean. Last year for me. About two months before I got here." He was quiet for a moment. "She was murdered."

"I'm so sorry, I wish I had known. Was it… was it Death Eaters?"

He looked startled. "No! No, of course not. I was trying to join them wasn't I?" He shook his head. "It was Muggles, believe it or not. Just a bunch of stupid Muggle burglars that broke in, looking for cash and jewelry, or something. They beat her and...and they left her for dead. Dad came home from the pub and found her. They stole her wedding ring and a few pieces of jewelry she had. That's how the bastards got caught: they tried to sell her jewelry. It just made me that much more certain that Lord… You-Know-Who's rhetoric was to be listened to. If she'd had her wand..."

"I'm sorry," Hermione repeated. "What about your dad? How did he die?"

"He's still alive, actually. I asked the professor when I first got here. He said my--our--father was living in a home somewhere and doesn't remember he has a son. He's just past seventy... that's getting older for a Muggle. Professor Snape says I'm not to tell anyone he's even alive; I'm pretty sure he pretends Dad is dead."

Professor Snape's understanding and assistance with obliviating and re-enchanting the memories of Hermione's own parents over the summer made sudden, blinding sense. He'd likely done the same thing to his own father, she realised. The memory of his words and the even tone he had used floated back to her.

 _"I would relieve them of their memories, were it me, but I am not considered a sentimental man by most."_ Sentimental or not, Professor Snape _did_ feel. He still cared enough about his abusive father that he had protected him from Voldemort. Despite his hard and sour demeanor, he was still essentially the same person as the man in bed with her. Hermione stroked a hand through his hair. "You can trust me," she whispered, silently meaning the promise for both men.

Severus smiled faintly. "I know. I do." Then his expression became wicked and he rolled on top of her. A hand stroked down her skin, scattering her serious thoughts. His hips rocked deliberately against hers, his penis rapidly hardening against her stomach with the stimulation. "I find," he stressed the word, drawing it out slowly, "that I no longer wish to talk about my parents. I think I'd rather play with you."

Her body humming, Hermione sucked in a breath and gave him a surprised look. "Already?"

"Hmmmm, how could I not, with such a delectable, sexy, nearly-naked witch in my arms?" He nibbled at her throat, scraping his teeth just under her ear. "I do believe it is now my turn to make you come." His lips glided down her collarbone, and he whispered against her skin, "If that is acceptable to you, milady?"

The quiet rumble of his words was titillating and desire suddenly flared to life in her again, hot and sweet. Slowly, she drew a leg up his, the thin nylon of her stockings catching and dragging against his leg hair. It felt intimate, and a shiver rippled through her. She smoothed her foot back down his leg again, luxuriating in the sensation. "How do you propose to do that, Severus?" His name was sibilant on her lips, provocative.

His groan seemed to come from low in his chest, and he caught the tip of one breast in his mouth, briefly tugging on it with his lips before answering. "I want to touch all of you, taste all of you. From here," he raised his head and pressed a kiss to her temple, "all the way to your toes." He slanted her a look from under his lashes. "If that's alright with you."

An anticipatory frisson of delight sizzled through her. Hermione murmured assent, sighing as his lips started pressing open, sensual kisses to her throat and jaw. Her skin prickled with arousal, breasts tightening painfully and seeming to echo in the ache between her thighs. Eager, she turned her head to meet his mouth with hers. It was a thorough, deep and utterly intoxicating kiss. The slide of his tongue against hers and the heat of his body was addictive, and hungrily she gripped him closer, rubbing herself against him.

His weight shifted back and suddenly he was sitting upright, staring down at her and running his hands lightly over her thighs. His eyes followed the length of her body down, his scrutiny as palpable as a touch. She was so primed by the heated expression he wore that when his hands followed the path his eyes had taken, it set her skin immediately afire.

His touch was magic. Not the warm, controlled magic of using her wand, but a primal crackling of electricity along her nerve endings. Long-fingered and gentle, he devastatingly mapped the curves of her shoulders, arms and breasts. A hot, curling sensation unfurled in her stomach as he lifted one arm and guided it to his mouth, tracing the inside of her elbow with his tongue. Smiling at her wickedly, he followed the line of her arm and kissed the centre of her palm. Each finger was drawn slowly into his mouth with a slow sucking motion, his tongue flicking at the sensitive pads of her fingers. The tugging sensation made her involuntarily clench her thighs in need, tightening about his hips, and her breath left her in another soft sigh.

"Severus…" She mewled.

"Yes…?"

"Please," she said, not entirely sure what she was asking for.

"I will," he answered. "Just as soon as I'm finished here. This is the first time I've had the chance to really touch and taste you; I want to take my time." He replaced her arm and lifted the other, beginning to repeat the process.

Hermione heard herself whimper in answer, and she lifted herself up, removing her arm in order to wrap them both around him instead. He had been kneeling between her thighs; now she sat with her legs splayed on either side of him, his hands delving into her hair stroking her back as their kiss intensified.

"You are determined to distract me, aren't you," he murmured against her mouth.

"Hmmmm. I like kissing you."

Severus caressed her sides again, palming her breasts and lifting them slightly. A blissful, happy expression flitted across his face and his head dipped to her breasts again. His tongue traced a long, lazy spiral around each nipple, bussing the tip gently before closing around it and sucking hard.

Hermione gasped, shifting restlessly against him and then winced a little as his teeth used a little too much pressure. She pulled away from him gently and he followed, the movement overbalanced them and they fell back against the pillows of the bed again. Severus caught himself above her on his elbows, crooning a soft apology.

His long hair fell down around her, brushing against her forehead. She tenderly tucked it behind his ears, running her thumbs along his cheekbones. His eyes closed at the gesture, is breath leaving in a ragged puff. They opened again, and the heat in them nearly took her breath away.

Slowly, without speaking, he slid down her body, scraping his teeth against her breasts more gently, grazing her ribs and slowly licking down the line of her stomach to her navel. He paused briefly to admire the suspender belt she had daringly purchased specifically for the party, his appreciation obvious. He hummed his approval, and she couldn't help but murmur, "I saw it in one of Parvarti's catalogues, and I thought you might like it."

He grinned wickedly. "You _planned_ on taking your clothes off for me, did you?"

She blushed. "I considered it a distinct possibility."

"It's sexy as Circe, but I'm going to take it off you now," he informed her. He fumbled with the clasps, and looked so proud of himself when all the hooks and snaps came free that she couldn't help but smile.

Severus tossed the garment on the floor, tugging at her nylons until they, too, were off. He studied her for a moment, then whispered, "You're so beautiful… I can't believe you want this... me. Any minute now, I'm going to wake up, and this will all have been an incredible dream."

Hermione lifted a hand and placed it against his jaw, then tugged a lock of his hair. "I'm not a dream, Severus." Her voice sounded husky and enticing, even to her. It thrilled her that she could sound that way; that she could cause his lids to drop in lust. He bent back to his task, skimming lips and tongue along the newly revealed skin of her hips and thighs. His breath ghosted over her still-knicker-clad quim and she squirmed, bucking a little in silent request.

Severus' eyebrow winged up a little, and he stroked a finger over her knickers softly, rubbing her clitoris gently. She groaned loudly, the sound startling even her with the needy intensity in it. Encouraged, Severus stroked her again, and then his mouth lowered, dampening from the outside the knickers that she had already thoroughly saturated on the inside.

It was the single most incredible thing she had ever felt in her life. Even the times she had touched herself, experimenting until she discovered the exact way to make herself climax, didn't compare to the intoxicating feeling of his mouth softly nipping and suckling at her. Restlessly, she shifted, unable to keep quiet as he stimulated her. She writhed under his mouth, shamelessly grinding against him. Impatient, he drew back, and hooking a finger in her knickers, tugged them off, tossing them off the bed to land somewhere behind him. He wriggled down a bit further on the bed, and lifted her thighs to spread her a little wider for his mouth. His expression determined, he applied his lips and tongue to her directly.

Hermione wailed, unable to keep the cry in and not really caring anymore. She felt hollow inside and _ached_ and if he didn't fill her she might honestly go mad. Mindless, she babbled words of praise and need, imploring him for _more._ A finger entered her gently and probed. It felt both foreign and good, but it wasn't enough, and she squirmed. "Please, _please,"_ she begged, caught up in the sensation of feeling _almost there_ and not able to quite reach it. "I need you inside me, Severus."

He froze, his head lifting up to give her an anguished expression. "But you aren't ready."

"The hell I'm not!"

"No, I mean," he faltered, "you _said_ you weren't ready. I don't want you to regret--"

"I won't. I've changed my mind," she hissed, still squirming against his hand.

Severus' expression twisted in indecision as he clearly weighed his own desire against hers and her previous words.

"Severus," she said firmly, "do you love me?"

"Yes." His answer was immediate, unhesitating.

"Then I won't have any regrets. I promise. _Please_ make love to me."

"If... if you're really sure." He was already crawling up her body again, his expression hungry and excited.

"Very sure," she answered as he settled into place between her thighs. His cock was rigid and heavy against her opening. Feeling a small stab of apprehension again, she said tentatively, "Severus?"

He froze, muscles tense. "Yeah?"

"Be gentle?"

His breath left in a gusty _whoosh._ "I will, I promise." He murmured something further under his breath, tracing a small symbol with his finger on the skin just below her navel, and then his hips started rocking softly against hers, his cock slowly... slowly working its way in. It hurt, the stretching of muscles that weren't used to the wide invasion, and she grit her teeth as each slow thrust pushed him deeper. His eyes closed in concentration and she was unable to stop a soft whimper.

Severus went still and made a softly strangled sound that might have been either pain or pleasure and choked out, "Relax, Hermione. You need to relax. You're so tight I can barely think and I'm trying really hard to...to not… ugh _gods."_ His hips thrust sharply as she focused on trying to relax her muscles, a sharp pain ripped through her, and he was suddenly fully inside her.

His eyes opened slowly, sweat beading his forehead and his breath heavy. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I'm sorry that hurt. I thought maybe... maybe if I just got the worst part over with…"

She nodded as best as she could against the pillows, and said quietly, "No, you were right. Just...hold still a minute. Let me adjust. I think it's already beginning to fade."

Still breathing heavily, Severus held still above her, waiting for her approval to continue. A moment passed, and feeling only the strangeness of being utterly full, she shifted her hips experimentally. Severus groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder as he valiantly attempted to hold still. Hermione bent her knees for better purchase and lifted her hips again, rocking gently, then let out a breathy sigh as the movement brought ripples of lovely pleasure instead of pain. "Severus," she sighed. His head lifted slightly and she turned her own so that their lips met.

He made a soft noise of enjoyment and then he was moving too, a tender rhythm that built the tension and delight inside of her. It mounted and intensified quickly. Hermione wrapped her legs around him instinctively, her hips snapping more forcefully up to meet him with each thrust. She could hear their joining, a wet slide and slap that shot little ricocheting sparks through her core and up her spine.

Severus broke their kiss, a long, growling cry rumbling through him. His eyes met hers, the emotion and desperation as palpable as words. One of his hands reached down and worked its way between them, his fingers stroking her in the way he had just learned she liked best. Ecstasy shuddered through her, so acute it was almost painful. Overcome, she closed her eyes, exalting in the feeling of his warm chest against hers, the tension in the muscles of his shoulders and back, the slide of his cock within her.

It was…

Every muscle tightened and conscious thought shattered as her completion suddenly ripped through her. _Glorious,_ her brain supplied. _It is glorious._ Above her, Severus groaned in relief as he came as well, and then collapsed on top of her. They lay shuddering a moment, and the only thought Hermione's mind could articulate before sleep claimed her was that being a virgin was _definitely_ overrated.


	29. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**Chapter Twenty-Eight:** _(in which they are found out )_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 21 December 1996, 4:30 AM_

Severus woke slowly, Hermione's soft hand on his back gently shaking him awake. They were still entwined, sprawled across the thoroughly tousled bed and rather messy from their activities. Their _activities._ He smiled up at her, vaguely aware that his expression was probably somewhere between smug and besotted. Sex was quite possibly the best thing to exist… _ever,_ including both magic and caffeine. 

Reluctantly he shifted and stretched, forcing himself upright despite only a few hours of sleep. She followed, grasping his hand and wincing a bit as she stood. Despite her ginger, mincing steps, she was utterly spell-binding to watch. Her breasts were just _perfect._ He really couldn't quite get over that fact. They were just small enough to fit in his hands and just plump enough to jiggle distractingly as she moved.

Severus half-heartedly reached for his clothes, unable to keep his eyes off his girlfriend as she did the same. Her skin was rosy and warm from the bed, little splotches of red blossoming where he'd marked her throat and low on her stomach. Her carefully controlled hair from the night before had reverted to its usual curly mass, frizzing up into the riotous halo he was used to. She had just the slightest bit of a tummy and a neatly trimmed thatch of curls at the apex of her thighs. Vaguely, he wondered if she always kept it that way, or if she had done that in preparation for the night before, like the suspender belt.

He was brought back from his leering catalogue of her by a playful smack on his arm. Severus blinked, and then grinned as he realized that her cheeks were quite red. Silently acquiescing, Severus went about redressing, leaving off the formal outer dress robes and not bothering to tuck his shirt in. She was muttering and swiping her wand at her crumpled dress, trying to transfigure it without making it impossible to revert back to its original lines. 

"You're probably wasting your time; if anyone sees you, it's going to be obvious," he told her. She ignored him and slipped the dress on, wandering into the loo to frown at the still-crumpled but now transfigured frock in the mirror. He then saw her wince and touch her hair. Concerned, he followed her and turned her around, scolding gently. "Stop it. You're beautiful." 

Her expression softened, and she leaned into him. "I love that you think so."

He lifted his nose in an expression of mock-snobbery. "I'll have you know that I have studied the female form for several years now." He lifted an eyebrow at her as she started to laugh softly. "I'm a veritable connoisseur. Having seen you up close and in detail, I can attest that you, Hermione Granger, are perfect." He kissed her forehead. "I'll smuggle you a pain potion or muscle relaxant as soon as I can get my hands on one," he promised.

She snorted, and then touched his cheekbone gently. "You're sweet." She laughed as he squirmed, and then said teasingly, "don't worry, I won't tell anyone. You are, though. You were very solicitous of my comfort--both mentally and physically, and though it wasn't necessary, it was sweet of you to perform the contraception charm."

"But I didn't…!" Severus went cold with fear before the second half of her sentence registered. Clearing his throat, he responded carefully, "I didn't perform a contraceptive charm. You did?"

She smiled, her cheeks dimpling a little. "I took care of it," she confirmed. "I took the potion after the first time you got my blouse unbuttoned. I thought it couldn't hurt, seeing as how things were getting a bit more serious."

Severus' relief nearly knocked him over, and still a bit wobbly-kneed, he sat down on the bed again. He loved her, but he was definitely _not_ ready for that.

Her smile became confusion. "Hang on, if it wasn't a contraceptive spell of some kind, what was that you were casting right before, then?" 

Severus felt himself blush in reply and cursed mentally. Unlike Hermione, his combination of fair skin and dark hair was not charming when he blushed. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks, and muttered, "A spell. _Accipies de Sanguine Virginis._ I wasn't sure if it'd work wandless, but I thought it might come in handy if it did…"

Hermione looked blank for a moment, and then burst into laughter. "You were about to lose your virginity, and you were thinking about _potion components?"_

Severus crossed his arms defensively. "I was trying to distract myself at first, and then I remembered. Willing virgin's blood is a Class V component, on par with unicorn horn. Even a little bit is worth a small fortune..." He trailed off, shrugging a little, letting his hair fall into his face. It was greasy again, he noted.

Still clearly amused, she shook her head slightly. "Well, _did_ it work?"

Severus blinked. "I haven't checked. I honestly forgot. Nearest vial or beaker is in the sitting room." He left quickly, and came back a moment later, still appearing sheepish, but holding up a large beaker with a very small amount of blood in it. He cleared his throat. "It looks like almost five milliliters. You'll, ah...want to keep that in something smaller I imagine, and be careful if you plan to sell it. Someone who knows the source and also knows what they're doing could use it to cast something nasty on you."

Hermione accepted the beaker solemnly, amusement still in her eyes, and transfigured it into a thick glass capsule, no larger than her thumb. Storing it in her pocket, she leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. "I love you, and you wouldn't be you if you didn't think of things like this."

He was being placated, but couldn't keep himself from brightening anyway. She loved him. Enough to give herself to him, enough to try to reassure him when he was embarrassed. Cheerfully, he helped her gather the remainder of their things, already attempting to plan the next time he could sneak her back into the room and try it again. 

A familiar ping followed closely by another interrupted them, warning that someone had crossed his simple ward lines from months earlier. Severus found himself exchanging a guilty, conspiratorial smile with Hermione. Over the months, they'd had gotten used to the double ping as staff members passed by the door; they rarely even noticed when they were not timing their coming and going. It was a bit unnerving to hear someone walking by so early in the morning _right after_ the night they'd had.

Then the wards clicked, and Severus whipped back to stare at the entrance in horror. Hermione blanched, and her mouth opened as they both realised. The double ping had not been a person crossing both wards. It had been _two_ people crossing just one, and stopping in front of the door.

 _There isn't enough time to run, hide or clean up,_ Severus thought miserably. They were about to be discovered. If he were lucky, it would be Professor Snape, who might be willing to just remove house points and send them packing. If he were unlucky… 

The door opened, and Severus felt his heart plummet into his stomach as the Deputy Headmistress entered, her expression stony. Hermione let out a small, unhappy moan next to him. 

_Oh, no. Oh, Merlin's fucking pants on a line._ Somehow, she'd found out. Somehow Professor-Ironpants-Sodding-McGargoyle had discovered that he'd spent the night shagging her special pet student. He was now going to be tortured on Gryffindor's parapet, or fed to the loch's grindylows or whatever the punishment was for getting caught defiling one of the Gryffindor Princesses.

Despite wearing a dressing gown over her night clothes, Professor McGonagall was as intimidating to him as when he had first met her at eleven years old. Her usual stern expression was set in harsh, forbidding lines that only deepened as she took in the state of the room and the unmistakable scent of musk in the air. Before she could say anything, however, Potter barreled past her, shoving his way into the room. 

"He's here, isn't he!" he shouted. "I told you! I told you he was doing something perverted and using dark magic forcing Hermione to…" his voice trailed off and Potter's face went tomato-red as he saw Severus. "You. You're… No. _No,_ you can't be, I've seen you and him and…" his head swung back and forth between Severus and Hermione. "Tell me you just have the same name, for some reason,” he begged. “You're just Severus Snape, Junior or something, and you go by Atreus because... because..."

Professor McGonagall's quiet tones of barely concealed anger and disappointment were worse than any of the times she had ever shouted at him. "Mister Prince, Miss Granger, you will accompany me to the Headmaster's office, _immediately._ Mister Potter, return to your dormitory, this no longer concerns you."

Potter started to protest loudly, only to have Professor McGonagall cut him off with an icy glare. "Clearly, your allegations concerning Professor Snape were unwarranted. Make no mistake, that _will_ be addressed later." Her voice rose as her hold on her temper began to fray. "In the meantime, Potter, for once in your life _do as you are told."_

Beside him, Hermione shook her head, her voice soft as she spoke. "I'm sorry, Harry, I told the headmaster we should tell you about Severus. I told him it wasn't right."

"Then you knew? You _knew_ that he was--he's--But _how_ is he doing it? If he's Snape, who's Snape, really!"

"Harry, I swear, I can explain!"

Potter started castigating her again, loudly, demanding answers without letting her actually answer any of them until Professor Mcgonagall interrupted, her voice cracking over Potter's like a whip.

"Mister Potter!" Her hands went to her hips as she took in the three of them. "All of you to the headmaster's office. Immediately. You lot have quite a bit of explaining to do."

Hermione gave him a miserable look and then proceeded out the door. Potter's own glare was absolutely venomous, but he followed Hermione. He tried to demand answers again in the hall, this time whispering furiously, only to have Professor McGonagall whip around and pin him with a scary look. 

The silent walk from the third floor corridor to the seventh floor entrance of the headmaster's office was the longest Severus could remember. Despite the dread pooling in his gut over what was surely to come, Severus was almost relieved when the stone gargoyle removed itself from the entrance and the professor ushered them up the spiralling staircase.

It should have been surprising to find his older self and the headmaster already in the office, both fully dressed. Professor McGonagall had not alerted them by any discernable means on the walk there, and surely they had no reason to meet at five in the morning on the first day of the winter hols, yet there they were. Neither of them looked particularly surprised to see Professor McGonagall and the three students she had in tow, either. 

"Severus. I'm glad to find you here, as this concerns you, too." Professor McGonagall greeted.

The corner of Professor Snape's mouth twitched down in response, and his eyes narrowed as they landed on Severus. Dumbledore, in contrast, only looked faintly curious. "What seems to be the trouble, Professor?" he asked.

"I caught Mister Potter leaving his dormitory this morning, and he made the rather wild accusation that Professor Snape was using coercion to demand inappropriate things of Miss Granger. He furthermore asserted that if I followed him, he could prove it." Professor McGonagall explained. "Of course such accusations must be taken seriously, regardless of how...outlandish they might seem." 

Professor Snape's face twisted into an ugly sneer, but he did not say anything as the Transfiguration professor continued. "Mister Potter surprised me further by leading me _directly_ to Severus' designated quarters, where we found Mister Prince and Miss Granger. They had clearly been involved in illicit activities."

"He's Snape!" Harry burst out. "I don't know how, but you have to believe me, Professor! Prince is really Snape, somehow!"

"Oh, for Cassandra's sake." Professor Snape muttered, sighing. "Who told him?"

"I _told_ you we should." Hermione added plaintively. "You didn't listen, but I told you." She frowned. "Wait a minute, those were _your_ quarters? That can't be! We've been using them--" Her mouth snapped shut as she realised what she was saying, and she glanced at Severus apologetically.

"Hmmm, yes. You're quite right, Harry, of course, in a way." Professor Dumbledore had the temerity to ignore everyone else in the room and address Potter, making it sound as if the other boy was being especially clever. "You see, Professor Snape ran afoul a strange bit of magic in his youth that resulted in his presence here out of his correct time. We've been keeping that a secret for his protection."

"You all knew, though! Even Hermione, and you didn't tell me!" Harry's voice was tight with anger. He rounded on Hermione, who flinched as his face contorted with anger. "You're supposed to be my BEST FRIEND, but not even YOU told me. AND YOU'VE BEEN FUCKING HIM." He screamed at the girl. "HOW COULD YOU, HERMIONE? How could you? With PROFESSOR SNAPE?" He opened his mouth to shout again only to have nothing come out. 

Professor Snape calmly re-sheathed his wand. "That's better," he said softly. He scowled at Professor McGonagall's indignant expression. "Oh, stop it. You wanted to do it, too. Since no-one else was actually bothering to shut him up, I thought it best."

"Severus," Professor McGonagall stepped towards him softly, an arrested expression on her face as she drank in his features as if seeing them for the first time. "Is he really… You're really him?"

Severus nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak.

"My gods." She whispered softly. "How?"

"First things first." Professor Snape said brusquely. "Granger and Prince were discovered blatantly disregarding curfew, trespassing in staff quarters, and engaging in sexual activities. The usual punishment is one hundred points each, and a ban on all future Hogsmeade weekends for the year, as well as a week of detentions. We would typically send letters to the offender's parents, as well. Hardly necessary in this case, as I have now been informed and Miss Granger's parents are, by her own admission, in hiding and unaware of her existence…" His voice trailed off and he sneered when Severus cut a shocked glance at his girlfriend. "What, your doting little lover didn't bother to tell you?"

Severus shook his head slightly, still staring at Hermione. It was no wonder Hermione had been sensitive about comments regarding her parents, and so out of sorts in the beginning of the year. Why _hadn't_ Hermione told him?

"Which is another thing, of course." Professor Snape continued, his voice only barely hiding his pleasure. "No doubt such offenses are grounds for revoking her status as prefect--that's quite unseemly behaviour to uphold as a model for impressionable young children."

Hermione visibly flinched and hunched in on herself, tears starting to leak from her eyes as she stared up at her Potions professor. 

"Gryffindor's prefects are a matter of _my_ jurisdiction, Severus." Professor McGonagall responded haughtily.

Professor Dumbledore finally spoke. "I don't think there is any need to strip Miss Granger of her badge. Certainly she was caught demonstrating poor behaviour, but everyone makes mistakes and deserves a second chance, do they not, Professor Snape?" He said it mildly enough, but the professor reacted as if he had been slapped.

"The original and usual punishment stands," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "And, another ten points from all three children for being out of their dormitories."

"And another _fifty_ from Granger and Prince for being in _my_ quarters." Professor Snape added silkily. "That, Minerva, _is_ my jurisdiction."

Severus winced. A hundred and sixty points all said and done, plus no more Hogsmeade weekends, _and_ a week of detentions! It was the steepest punishment he'd ever heard of for any transgression. 

"About that." Professor McGonagall crossed her arms. "Just how is it that they had access and you haven't noticed?"

"Obviously, Prince has access because the wards recognized his magic. No doubt he let Granger in," Professor Snape answered contemptuously, leaving out that Severus had stayed there during the end of the previous school year. "You know they are only there in my name as a formality; I have not used them at all in quite a long time." Professor Snape's eyes drifted back to Harry, who was still struggling to overcome the silencing spell he'd been struck with.

"I am more concerned with knowing how _Potter_ found out they were there."

"He's got a map," Severus answered, taking vicious pleasure in knowing the magical object would be confiscated. "It shows everyone in the castle at all times. There's no way to trick it or hide. He probably got it from Black."

Professor Snape nodded slightly, looking more resigned than pleased. "And so, at last, it becomes clear. Black and Potter always had the uncanny ability of knowing _precisely_ where I was at all times and when there were no professors around to intervene."

"What a horrific breach in privacy!" Professor McGonagall cried. "It can show them everyone? Everywhere? The teachers' quarters, the girls' dormitories and locker rooms? The baths?" 

"It labels where people are, you don't actually _see_ them," Hermione answered. "It doesn't show the Come and Go room either." She cleared her throat and then added reluctantly, "Harry's been using it to follow Malfoy around, and that's where he keeps disappearing into."

"Still!" Professor McGonagall's shrill exclamation overlapped with Professor Dumbledore's mused, "That's very interesting." The older woman glared at her employer, then crossed over to Potter.

"Hand it over, Mister Potter. You were able to lead me directly to where Mr. Prince--" she faltered, glancing at Severus again, "and Miss Granger were. You must have it with you."

"Minerva, surely I--" Professor Dumbledore started.

"No, I don't trust you with it anymore I do him. The portraits spy for you enough as it is." Professor McGonagall shot back. 

"Agreed." Professor Snape's murmur was almost inaudible.

Looking sulky, and still outraged, Potter dug in his pocket and pulled out a folded bit of parchment. Cradling it to his chest he gestured at his throat pointedly. 

"Mister Potter, do not think for a moment that you get to dictate anything. The only reason I am countering Professor Snape's charm is because he should not have done it in the first place. You had best choose your words very wisely," she cautioned.

Professor Snape glared and murmured, "Undermining--"

Potter cleared his throat experimentally, then quickly tapped the parchment with his wand. "Mischief Managed!" His eyes darted down, and looking slightly relieved, he passed it to his head of house. She, too, peered at the parchment.

"You've erased it. No doubt it's password protected? Yes, that will do." She gave the headmaster a challenging look. "We'll discuss it later, Albus. Now if there isn't anything else, I'm sure the children are tired. I certainly am. Breakfast is not for another two hours yet at its earliest, and they've a long train ride ahead of them today."

Potter glared at Hermione. "You said you didn't know anything about it. You should have told me." He crossed his arms. "I don't care what they said, you _should've said._ "

"I know, Harry, I'm sorry."

Potter shook his head cynically. "Yeah, now that you've been _caught._ I don't believe you. I don't...I don't think I can believe anything you say."

"Harry!" Hermione's voice was anguished. 

"Shove off, Hermione. Just...keep your distance." Potter turned to leave, then hesitated. Glancing back over his shoulder at Severus, he asked, "that's why you hexed me, last year, isn't it?" Potter stared at him intently. "You'd just gotten here, and you didn't realise. You thought I was... you thought I was my dad. People always say… they say I look like him."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter. I've told you that before." Severus answered belligerently.

Potter snorted. "Right. Well, what it's worth, I didn't like how they treated you when I found out." His expression soured again, and with an angry stomp, left the headmaster's office. 

Hermione gave a soft little sob. "Every time things start to finally be right it always goes wrong again," she complained. "By the time I see him again, he'll have told Ron and neither of them will speak to me."

Severus gathered her in, tucking her under his arm. "Surely they won't just cut you off. They got over it in the beginning of the year when they were mad," he said unconvincingly. "They'll cool down a bit over hols."

"You don't know them like I do," she replied pitifully.

"As fascinating as this conversation is, I have absolutely no desire to hear it. Out, Mr. Prince, Miss Granger. Back to your dormitories, and you may be certain I will ask the portraits to be sure that you took yourselves directly there."

Grateful to be excused, Severus tugged on Hermione's hand, pulling her toward the staircase. The adults were barely out of sight when Professor Snape's quiet voice floated down the staircase to them. "You've known me over twenty-five years, Minerva, but you _believed_ him. Why? You know I would _never_ touch a student."

"I wouldn't, typically. But Hermione Granger isn't exactly a typical student, is she?"

Their voices became inaudible as the stairs spiralled lower. Shocked, Severus stared down at the girl still tucked under his arm. "Why would she think… I mean, just because you're my girlfriend, doesn't mean _he_ likes you." He shook his head. "Professor McGonagall didn't know that we were the same, though, either. So why… He _hasn't_ said or done anything, has he?"

Hermione shook her head. "What? Of course not. He's always made it clear that he doesn't like me, remember?" 

Her voice didn't sound entirely certain, though, and something felt off to Severus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. :-) Please tell me your thoughts.
> 
> Side note: I am in the market for a British person. Duties would include reading my work and correcting my American phrases, American spelled words, and listening to the occasional meltdown. Benefits include getting to read before anyone else and plot spoilers should you want them. Perfect grammar is not required. :-) Please apply within.


	30. Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
>  **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  **  
> **  
>   
>   
> A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.  
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:** _(In which Hermione and Severus are uninvited from the Burrow and go to the British Museum instead)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 20 December 1996, 10:15 AM_

Breakfast of the first official day of Christmas hols was going rather miserably. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had awoken to find a serious deficit in their hourglasses compared to the previous night, and they were _not_ happy. It had only taken minutes for word to spread-courtesy of Potter and Weasley, no doubt-that Hermione had been the reason for _Gryffindor's_ loss. It was a very small leap in logic for Severus' own house members to arrive at the correct conclusion regarding their own point loss.

Severus was ostracised by his peers in short order. Not that his housemates had ever paid him much mind, save for when they needed help with Defence or Potions homework. This morning they were particularly pointed in their disdain and snide comments. He was rather used to this sort of treatment, however. He had put up with it for years as a low-ranking member in Slytherin, after all. But judging by the dirty looks his girlfriend was getting and the way she morosely picked at her breakfast, he had a feeling Hermione's morning was a whole lot worse than his own.

He ate quickly, pocketing an orange for later and approaching her as soon as breakfast started to wind down. He grasped her hand, pulling her to her feet. "Let's go."

"Wait" Potter stood up. Severus turned, settling his face into a bored expression, hoping Hermione would take his cue. He honestly didn't give a damn if Potter liked him, but he knew she could be deeply hurt by his antics. After ignoring her all morning, he doubted Potter was here to make amends. Weasley and Potter stood shoulder to shoulder behind him, reminiscent of a different Potter and a different time.

"Professor Dumbledore has spoken to me, and I won't tell anyone." Potter crossed his arms. "Except Ron, of course."

"Of course." Severus rolled his eyes.

"He's my friend. Friends don't keep secrets from each other." Potter gave Hermione a pointed look, and she visibly shrank a little. Severus shot the other boy a scathing look and reached to clasp Hermione's hand in his own. She straightened again, and that tiny bit of proof that she found his support so important warmed him. Potter met his gaze. "Maybe the whole concept of friendship is new to you, but that's how it works."

Next to him, Hermione gave a soft gasp and said sternly, "Harry!"

"Look, like Harry said, we won't tell anyone." Weasley looked uncomfortable and his shoulder moved in an awkward half-shrug. "I...I don't think it's a good idea for you two to come to the Burrow for Christmas, though."

"Uninviting us, are you? Fine." There was frosty steel in Hermione's voice, and her gaze shifted to Potter. "I think you'll regret not giving him a real chance, though. He was friends with your mother once, you know."

"Hermione…" Severus sighed.

"Yes. I'm aware. It ended when he called her a Mudblood." Harry shot back. "She then married the guy who started it. Now he's shagging another Muggleborn, and she happens to be friends with me, another Potter. Is revenge best served hot and heavy after all?"

Severus bared his teeth. "Fuck off, Potter. What's between us has _nothing_ to do with you."

To his credit, Potter looked slightly embarrassed, but his mulish expression held firm. "Maybe not, but no matter how much you pretend, you're still a Slytherin and you're still _Snape._ I don't trust you."

Potter's words were both blunt and harsh: exactly what Severus would expect from a Gryffindor and nothing he hadn't heard before from a more painful source. "Well, that is that, I suppose." Severus sighed, shrugging a little. Potter and Weasley's reaction of surprised confusion was difficult not to laugh at. Clearly they had expected him to have a public fit or to slink off, not to nonchalantly shrug them off. Enjoying himself just a bit, he turned to his girlfriend. "What should we do? I've never stayed behind for winter hols, have you?"

Hermione, looking a little bewildered, nodded. "My second, third and fourth years. To help _him."_ Her head jerked in Potter's direction. "I went home to see my parents last year. I'm glad now. I wish I had more often."

"Come on, then. We've a holiday to plan. I do believe you mentioned wanting to go to the British Museum. I'm sure Professor Flitwick, _my head of house,_ you know, the _smart_ house, would be pleased to indulge us." He led her away, enjoying the look of adoration she shot him.

When they were a several steps away she laughed softly. "That was brilliant! They are _still_ standing there!"

Severus let his lips tip into a small smile. "He needed a set down. They shouldn't treat you as if they own you, and have the right to choose your friends. He shouldn't treat me as if he knows me." He let his smile drop. "I'm sorry, though, that you aren't going to see your parents. Why...why _didn't_ you tell me about that?"

She shrugged awkwardly, looking uncomfortable. "Well, at the time, Professor Snape told me to keep it a secret so that no one could find them, and I didn't know you very well yet. It happened right before I came to Number Twelve. After that I just didn't like to talk about it."

Severus put an arm around her, tugging her in close to his side. "I suppose I can understand that. I'm sorry Potter and Weasley are being such arseholes. I don't mind not going, but I know you do."

His girlfriend gave her head a little toss. "At least we have the castle almost all to ourselves. Only fifteen students stayed behind." Her head tilted and she thought for a moment. "Our punishments don't apply to holidays, either. We can go to Hogsmeade at least the next two weeks, and I bet you're right and Professor Flitwick would still let us go to the British Museum."

Severus nodded. "I've never been, and it would be interesting to go, even if we don't run into Damian Vector."

"Well, then. Let's go ask him, shall we?"

* * *

_The Great Court of The British Museum, 23 December 1996, 4:30 PM_

As they spilled into the Great Court of the British Museum from one of the side doors, Severus couldn't help but grin. "That was incredible! What was your favourite part?"

"Oh, all the Egyptian grave goods and art. Especially the wizarding sections; they really were incredibly advanced! Especially their rites concerning death and souls, and their wards. I also liked the huge marble horse from the Mausoleum of Hali...Hali..." Hermione frowned, looked down at a pamphlet in her hands and sounded out slowly, "Hali-kar-nas-sos." She nodded, pleased with herself for getting the word out. "What about you?"

"It was all extremely interesting, of course… I think the exhibit with the ancient coral wands of the Pacific was cool. I hadn't realised that decent wands and staves had been made from anything but wood, or that Malaysian and Polynesian magic users had done anything of note. And the astrolabe. It was very intricate."

"I _still_ cannot believe this is your first visit."

Severus shrugged. "My dad never cared much for museums of any kind, and he was particularly unhappy to learn that there were wizarding rooms and exhibits hidden amongst the Muggle ones that he would be barred from. My mum didn't like to upset him, so we just never went."

She glanced at him from under her curls and then gave the entrance of the Reading Room a longing look. "I've always wished to see the Library here. I have to admit, now that I know that there is a wizarding branch under it, I wish to go even more. They give passes to Seventh Years, sometimes," she added.

"No doubt you are already planning a special project that will require access specifically for that purpose?"

Hermione blushed. "I have a few projects in mind. One or two may require outside sources."

Severus shook his head and laughed.

"Are you hungry?" asked Hermione. "There's a restaurant on the upper level we could go to."

Severus shook his head, grimacing. "Actually, no. My stomach has been bothering me; it's been steadily getting worse all day. I must have eaten something at breakfast that disagrees. We can still go and you can have something if you want." He glanced up the stairs and blinked in surprise as a familiar profile caught his attention. Damian Vector looked infinitely less mysterious and more human out of his Unspeakable robes, though still absurdly handsome. "Hermione...I think that's him. I'm not-I'm not positive, because of the Muggle clothes, but I think it is. There, coming down the stairs?"

She turned to look, and blushed. "Oh, that's him, alright."

He glanced at her sideways, but she was still staring at the Unspeakable. Severus turned back and watched as the man descended, trying to pretend he didn't feel a pinprick of jealousy. Just because the man was prettier than most girls, intelligent enough to be an Unspeakable and happened to look especially dapper in Muggle trousers and waistcoat, didn't mean he was a rival. He merely did not feel well, that was all.

When Damian finally noticed them, he quirked dark eyebrow quirked and smiled. "Mr. Prince, Miss Granger. Enjoying the museum exhibits, I presume?"

"Yes. What are you doing here?" Severus asked brusquely. "I wouldn't have expected to see you," he lied.

Damian smiled mockingly. "I work here, of course. The British Museum comes into contact with a lot of dangerous artifacts. The Ministry decided it would be prudent to have a licenced Medi-Wizard and Obliviator here full time for preventative measures."

Hermione crossed her arms, unconsciously mimicking Severus' pose. Damian's eyes followed her movement, frowning at her hands as if there were something wrong. Hermione didn't appear to notice the direction of his gaze, and instead asked imperiously, "What are you really here for? Are you even actually licensed for either of those things?"

Damian glanced up again, appearing offended. "Of course I am. They're hanging in my office. I have absolutely no idea why anyone would possibly think I was here for anything else but my Ministry-sanctioned career. Unless, of course, it's unfathomable that a person might actually enjoy the museum, or be studying a subject requiring one of the foremost research libraries in the world."

"You have a reading pass?" There was clear envy in Hermione's tone.

Damian rolled his eyes. "Please _try_ to remember who my primary employer is. Come, having this conversation right in the middle of the Great Court isn't the best idea." He turned and headed off through the crowd toward one of the Museum entrances. Severus glanced at Hermione, silently asking if she trusted him.

She shrugged. "It's one of the reasons why we came, after all."

He nodded and took her hand, following after the man impatiently waiting by the entrance. Damian led them through the exhibit to a cleverly hidden side door, which led to a short hall and a flight of stairs. He spoke over his shoulder as he walked. "This whole level is staff only, unless special permission is granted for behind-the-scenes sort of things. Restoration, authentication and curating offices, the vaults with all the really good stuff not on display."

He led them through a side door. A shiver passed over Severus' skin, and he had to struggle a moment to focus on where he was going. There were Notice Me Not charms on the door, then, and probably anti-Muggle spells he couldn't detect. Wherever Damian was leading them, it was clearly restricted to wizarding employees of the museum. They took a few more twists and turns before they were finally ushered into a small room.

"My office. In you go. Please don't touch anything. I borrow from the vaults to study different artifacts sometimes, and most of them are ... shall we say, not benign."

Severus glanced about. The office was cluttered with unusual objects, reminding him of Professor Dumbledore's. Various crystals, little mechanical devices and boxes littered the desk and shelves, and a deep, midnight blue cloak was tossed carelessly over the office's single chair. The lighting caught the sparkle of almost invisible silver threading in it, and the effect tugged at his memory strangely. The journal he had been writing in during the summer at Number Twelve was on the desk, as was a book entitled _Modern Magics of Blood and Soul._

"Why study them here? Isn't that what the Department of Mysteries is for?" Hermione asked, spreading her hands.

"The British Museum doesn't like it when we Unspeakables take their artifacts into the Department of Mysteries-they don't always get them back. They stopped letting the DoM conduct their research outside the Museum offices and labs some time back. It works both ways, though. There are a few things I keep here from the department that are now more mine than theirs." He winked.

"Like the Time-Turners and the...what were they called...the Huh Boxes." Hermione said, glancing about as if looking for those very items. Damian inclined his head, flopped down into his chair on top of his robes and started twirling a muggle pen about his fingers idly.

"What _are_ Huh boxes?" asked Severus. "I'd never heard of them before the meeting you let us listen in on."

In response the man pointed to a small golden box on his desk, no larger than a quill case, and then to a large crate sitting behind his desk. "They're called Huah Boxes, though Huh Box is technically correct, too. They're stasis boxes of ancient Egyptian design; both Huh and Huah are names of the Egyptian god of time. There is an unbreakable stasis charm worked into them. Only a magical being can open them once they're closed. They also effectively block magical residue and scrying, so once something goes in, it more or less is impossible to detect or destroy.

"They're considered a Time device that should belong to my Department because time does not pass for the object within. The Egyptian royals and wizards used them for all sorts of things. The one on my desk had sensitive potions in it. A Huah Box like this larger one was probably used for smuggling."

"Probably?" Hermione asked.

Damian shrugged. "It was empty the first time I came across it."

Severus turned in a slow circle, studying all the random objects in the office. "How did you come to join the Department of Mysteries? Is there an application or…?"

The Unspeakable's smile was sharp and for the first time that Severus had seen him, uncharming. "You needn't worry, Mr. Prince. Should you wish to join the Department of Mysteries, the Unspeakables will find you if you want them to. They like to keep track and be in control of anyone who stumbles across any of their little projects accidentally. In your case, time travel. A candidate must be a certain age, score a certain level of magical strength on the Prospero test, take certain oaths and sign certain waivers to be allowed anywhere near time turners, Huah Boxes, or even the research. If you want to join, just let it be known how you came to be here, and an Unspeakable will show up to collect you as soon as you turn seventeen. Doubtless it's why Dumbledore is keeping a lid on it."

"No, surely not." Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "I didn't."

The man's gaze shot to hers. "You didn't _what,_ precisely?"

"When they let me have a Time-Turner for classes in my third year. They didn't make me take any special tests, or sign any waivers or oaths or anything. Professor McGonagall told me that it was important that I not let anyone see me, or tell anyone, but I don't recall doing anything like you describe."

Damian's eyes had gone wide. "Bloody, buggering fuck! You've used a Time-Turner already? Professor McGonagall gave you a Time-Turner without _any_ of the restrictions? She at least tested you first, as a precaution, I hope? No?" He looked gleeful and his short laugh was almost manic. "If there were ever any doubt that she was a Gryffindor...hah! She must have been _very_ sure of how powerful you are. That's one of the requirements, you know. If someone without the sheer magical strength to handle the process of ripping time apart around them were to use a Time-Turner they could end up ripping themselves apart instead."

Suspicious understanding and fear were dawning on Hermione's face. Her voice small, she asked, "What are you talking about?"

Severus explained, watching Damian's reaction to see if he was correct. "He means that it sounds like you weren't supposed to have it… that perhaps she took the tests, signed the necessary paperwork and took the oaths for you. And that it would have killed you if she had gauged your magical strength incorrectly."

The Unspeakable nodded. "Just so. To be fair, you don't have to score _that_ highly on the Prospero in order to qualify. Just above average magical strength would do it, but they have been denied for that reason before."

"And...and if I had, perhaps, shared my Time-Turner without knowing any of this?"

Damian's smiled again, looking little bit mad, in Severus' opinion. "Then I suppose you were lucky the person in question was also of at least average magical strength." He snorted. "Three of you. Three underaged people running about with time-travelling history and no restrictions. The department heads would collectively shit themselves and cry." He chortled under his breath. "I don't think I am going to tell anyone. It will be interesting to see how this changes things or doesn't."

"About that." Severus said. "How do you know what's ahead? Do you travel forward somehow and then back, or are you from the future and have just travelled back, or…? We tried looking you up, but the last Damian Vector on record died a hundred and seventy years ago."

Damian held up his hands. "And Q and A time is over, kids. I've indulged your curiosity because I think it will be fun to let you loose with new information, and I've told you more than enough to cause some trouble if you've mind to. If you want to muck about in more time travel theory and how I may or may not be accurately predicting the future, pester someone else. In fact, I fully hope you do." He winked again. "Come, I'll lead you back up."

He did so, shrugging off Hermione's questions as she tried to dig for more information. He finally ushered them both back onto the ground floor. He glanced at Hermione's hands again, and said offhandedly, "It can get cold in here, Miss Granger. Next time you visit you should wear gloves." With that he spun and quickly strode away, disappearing into the Reading Room, where they couldn't hope to follow.

Nonplussed, Hermione looked at him. "I'm not cold, and you're not wearing gloves, either."

"I'm… I think he might be a little bit mad, Hermione. He thought it was funny that Professor McGonagall risked your life, and possibly others, and did you see the book on his desk? It was about really dark stuff. Blood magic and souls. One doesn't just start studying human sacrifice out of curiosity."

Hermione nodded. "Professor Snape said that he likes making people uncomfortable for his amusement, and he as good as told us to cause trouble with the information he gave us. He also promised not to tell the other Unspeakables that we'd both time-travelled. That's odd, don't you think? Shouldn't he think it important the department records are accurate, as one of them?"

Severus shook his head slightly, and frowned as the room tilted a bit. "I rather got the feeling that he didn't especially like the Department of Mysteries or whomever his boss is for some reason," he muttered faintly. "I think I'd like to go back. I'm actually _really_ starting to not feel well."

Hermione chewed on her lip, concern bright in her eyes. "Of course. Let's go."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading, especially to those taking the time to review. Seeing how much my work is being enjoyed and growing from the constructive feedback that you give me is why I continue to write. Thank you! Special thanks also to Vezza, who has been helping me Brit Pick. :-)


	31. Hermione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time travel story. When fifth year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-traveling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation was worthless. Or was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
> **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
> **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
> **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>  ****  
>    
>    
>    
>  A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.    
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX** _**  
** _ **By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty:** _(In which Christmas and Severus' birthday pass...)_

Christmas morning dawned clear and bitingly cold. It had snowed for almost three days straight, and there appeared to be nearly two feet in the main courtyard. It was pristine and beautiful, an almost mockery of the raging turmoil Hermione felt inside. Reluctantly, she tore her gaze from the window to the foot of the bed. The house elves had put her Christmas gifts there, just as they did every year that she had spent at Hogwarts, and she was dreading looking through them. She had been trying to prepare herself for the glaring absence of her parents' Christmas presents for the last few days, but found herself breathing shakily and wiping tears from her eyes anyway.

Neither of the boys had given her anything, either. Which meant that they had either not bothered to shop, or had deliberately not sent the presents they had picked out in order to make a point. The reminder that her oldest and closest friendships might be irreparably damaged hurt nearly as much as the knowledge that she would never share a Christmas with her family again.

She had received what was unmistakably a Weasley sweater, however. It was bright purple with a pale blue snowflake, a pattern Hermione knew from her own experiments with elf-sized clothing to be difficult, even for an expert knitter. The clear show of affection from the Weasley matron had her eyes welling up with tears again, and then snapping with anger when she read the card. In it, Mrs. Weasley very kindly expressed her regrets that Hermione wouldn't be able to make it to the Burrow this year for at least Boxing Day.

Cowards, she thought resentfully. Apparently Ron and Harry hadn't had the courage to tell Mrs. Weasley she'd been uninvited. Vindictively, Hermione considered writing a thank-you note that casually mentioned that she had been under the impression she wasn't welcome, but decided that it wasn't worth the further drama it would cause.

Ginny, Luna and Neville had each sent her small but thoughtful gifts. And her roommates had given her lotion and an ornament-the sorts of gifts that one gives to a female acquaintance that one doesn't spend much time with. Her last present, from Atreus, was a galleon that had a thin waxy film on it, a small jar of unlabeled cream, and a pale pink candle. The accompanying note simply said he would explain later. Smiling to herself, Hermione studied the cream, trying to determine what it was before giving up with a slight shrug. Whatever he had made, it wasn't a standard recipe from their textbook.

He was waiting for her outside Gryffindor's portrait-door later that morning; his smile wide as he saw her. "How did you do it?" he asked, his voice breathless. "It looks just like it should! And the spellwork!" He barked out an incredulous laugh and studied the ornate ring on his right forefinger. "Brilliant! This must have cost you a bloody fortune!" His eyes went wide. "It can't possibly be the original-you wouldn't have been able to get that! How did you do it?"

Hermione couldn't help but grin back, and threaded her arm through his as they started off towards the Great Hall. "Well, I sent for the ring itself. I have a friend who has a friend who is apprenticing for magical smithing. He's completed the metallurgy portion, but not the lapidary. My friend wrote on my behalf asking if he would be interested in making it for me for a bit of a discount, since he is still shy of his full journeyman's papers. He agreed, so I sent him the design for the Prince signet; the Gold Book had the family coat of arms and motto." She blushed. "I did the protection charms myself."

"It's incredible, Hermione." Atreus said, his voice thick with emotion. He glanced down again at the ornate ring. The Prince family insignia was a hawk in flight, outlined by the full moon, a rowan branch in its beak and each claw clutching a crown. "I've been trying to prove that I'm a Prince ever since I came to Hogwarts as a child. Now, by some strange twist of fate, I can finally claim the name legally. Then you give me this…" His voice trailed off. "I'm not entirely sure I deserve you," he added.

Hermione grinned. She had been a bit concerned that he would find her gift presumptuous or strange, and was relieved it had been a fabulous success. "Did you see the inner band? I had the Prince family motto engraved."

Atreus gave her a startled look, then took the ring off to peer inside it. "No, I hadn't noticed. _Veritas fugit indifferenter se habet ad reges._ The truth flies indifferent to kings," he translated quietly. He slipped it back on again. "It's really wonderful, Hermione."

"What about mine?" she asked excitedly. "A galleon, a candle, and a potion of some kind. It is clearly not standard; you obviously put effort into it, and I'm dying to know what it is, now."

It was Atreus' turn to blush, and he fidgeted a little, looking about. "Well, first I got a couple of those matching Patented Daydream charms, dismantled them, and then rebuilt them a bit. Then I applied them to a couple of your DA protean galleons."

It took Hermione a moment, but then her mouth dropped open and she stared in awe. "So two people can now share the same daydream. That… Merlin, Atreus, that must have taken you weeks to figure out! That's... incredible!"

"Almost two months," he admitted. His expression became positively wicked. "But we can hardly get in trouble for daydreaming in our very own beds all alone, can we?"

"No." Still astonished, Hermione laughed. "We should save it for a bit later, when we're having a particularly rough week. It will be nice to have it up our sleeves as a bit of an escape." She glanced down at the waxy galleon again. "Atreus, the implications of this… what might be done with this…!"

He nodded. "I'll be looking into the legalities of patenting it once it's safe to do so, and also looking into whether or not it's possible to extend it for more than one use." He shrugged, then explained her other two gifts. "The candle is made from wax that I mixed with some amortentia. The wax makes the potion unusable in the traditional way, but the candle should still smell like your favourite things. If it doesn't, let me know. I'll tweak the thing some more. I didn't get quite as much time to spend on that one because of the other two were more complicated." He cleared his throat and looked a little embarrassed. "The jar is, um, a topical that has sensory properties. It intensifies heat and causes little tingles. Er, that one definitely works." He blushed as Hermione started snickering.

"Tested it, did you?" She asked innocently. "On your arm or something?"

He blushed harder but laughed along. "Or something," he agreed and grinned. "So, you like them, then?"

"I think they-and you-are brilliant." She stopped just outside the Great Hall and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She sighed happily as he tucked her closer and deepened it. His kiss was sweet and eager, his hands gently wandering over her curves and his body hardening under her own explorations.

"Are you still sore?" His voice was a husky whisper in her ear, and she couldn't help a little shiver at the sound.

"A bit. Not really," she murmured back. She had known that losing her virginity would probably include some pain, but no one had told her just how achy she would be afterwards. She had hardly been able to walk the first day, even after using a soothing cream. "The first couple of days I was-quite-but now...uhn. Mmm, not enough to stop. Especially if you go slow."

He leered. "Good. My roommates all went home for Christmas." He kissed her again thoroughly, his fingers combing through her hair as he pulled her against him again.

They broke apart in surprise as a throat cleared disapprovingly behind them, and they turned to see Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, apparently having exited the Great Hall together. Professor McGonagall's mouth thinned as she took in their appearance. Professor Snape's expression did not change, but Hermione got the distinct impression that he, too, was displeased.

Professor Dumbledore smiled beatifically. "Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Prince. So lovely to see you both in good spirits. Happy Christmas to you both. You should try the kippers; they are especially delicious this morning," he informed them cheerily before heading off down the hall.

The two remaining professors exchanged glances and then Professor Snape gestured with a surly air. "Come, nephew. I have mandrake root in the lab that needs grating." He turned away, robes flaring, as though sure in the knowledge that he would be obeyed. Atreus shot her a rueful, apologetic look, but followed.

Professor McGonagall took a deep, aggrieved breath. "Miss Granger. I hope that I do not need to remind you once again of proper conduct in this school. You have so much promise and potential. I would hate to see it wasted because of your lack of self control."

Anxiety fluttered through her briefly. "No, Ma'am," Hermione whispered softly. "About that, though. My potential, I mean. I have a question, Professor." She tilted her head to study her professor more closely. "In my third year, you gave me special dispensation for a Time-Turner. I knew it to be an honor. I know I wasn't the first, but only four other students have been granted the same privilege… _ever._ I found a footnote in this year's Theory textbook, _Time/Space Magical Anomalies._ It also referenced the Mysterious Commodities, Research and Sundries Act of 1427."

Professor McGonagall stiffened almost imperceptibly."It was an unusual honor that you were considered, Miss Granger," she replied firmly. "You should not look gift horses in the mouth." She turned and began to walk away.

Frustrated, Hermione raised her voice to call after her. "I looked up the law, Professor. It has to do with items that belong to the Department of Mysteries. The restrictions for Time-Turners surprised me, given my own experiences."

Professor McGonagall whipped around again, checked the halls to see if anyone might be nearby before pinning Hermione with a hard look. "This is not a conversation to be had in the hall, Miss Granger."

Hermione crossed her arms, but continued quietly. "I do not mean to imply anything, Professor. Only ask why I was issued one at all. I didn't meet _any_ of the requirements at the time." Hermione ticked them off on her fingers. "I wasn't of age, nor was I an employee, nor under contract to join the Department after graduation. I _am_ magically strong enough, but there was no proof at the time. I didn't even take my first Prospero Test until my O.W.L.s, two _years_ later. I'm not like Harry, Professor. I am an unquestionably precise and fast student, but I don't have the obvious sheer, magical muscle he has." She shrugged. "Finally, I did not sign my remains over to the Department for research upon my eventual death. Therefore, I did not-and still don't-qualify for a Time-Turner."

Professor McGonagall was silent, seeming to debate with herself for a long while. Finally she responded. "Many things have been done-for both sides-off the records because of the current political climate. Perhaps you remember from last summer that the Order has contacts in the Department of Mysteries that are sympathetic to our cause? The truth is that the Time-Turner was procured for you by one of those contacts due to a combination of your potential and your close association with Mr. Potter."

Hermione nodded in understanding, but her mind was racing. Damian had acted genuinely shocked that she'd had it, and had implied that Professor McGonagall had gained it through subterfuge and pretence. Yet now the professor was saying that Damian and his partner were responsible for getting it to her. Someone was lying, and while Hermione didn't trust Damian Vector not to manipulate her to cause trouble, she couldn't help but feel that her Transfiguration professor wasn't being entirely honest.

"Thank you, Professor," she said. "I appreciate your candor." There...just there was the tiniest flinch from the older woman. Feeling lost, Hermione found herself mouthing platitudes. "I shall endeavor to make you proud and be more circumspect in the future."

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 9 January 1997, 9:45 AM_

The rest of Christmas hols passed frustratingly slowly. After their encounter on Christmas morning, Professor Snape seemed to take special care to always require his "nephew" for some reason or another, sneering sarcastically about the quality family time over the holidays. He was apparently colluding with Professor McGonagall, for Hermione found herself agreeing to various tasks for her Head of House, only to realise later they were scheduled for the few hours Atreus was free. They barely had more than half an hour alone together at any given time for the remaining days they were "off."

The resumption of school was both blessing and a curse. Once the teachers had other things to occupy themselves with, Hermione actually got to see Atreus quite a bit more. Of course, now that students flooded the halls and dormitories, there was little to no privacy to be had.

Harry and Ron were not actively being awful to her, but she was also clearly unforgiven, as neither would meet her eyes or include her in their conversations. Hermione glanced over at the two boys at the breakfast table from where she, Ginny and Neville sat slightly apart from everyone else. Students had been back from Christmas hols for over a week, yet Harry and Ron remained stubborn in their anger with her. Surprisingly, Ginny and Neville had rallied to her side. It had been touching and a bit humbling to realise that she still had true friends.

As if sensing her thoughts, Ginny winked at her, then said loudly, "My brother is a prat!" Lavender glared at them from a few seats down, and Ron's shoulders hunched a bit. Hermione smiled slightly, and Ginny lowered her voice, her tone scathing. "As if he hasn't spent the last few months snogging Lavender all over the school and more. He just wasn't actually caught in her pants," Ginny tossed her head. "He's probably just pissy because you're _not_ jealous of her. Never mind that he's being an arse to her, too."

"No, this is more than that," Neville interjected thoughtfully from Hermione's other side. "Harry's being worse than Ron. He wouldn't care if Hermione was jealous of Lavender or not. He flat out refused to come to Atreus' birthday this afternoon when you tried to invite him. It has something to do with Atreus."

Ginny's brows knit for a moment, and then lifted as she nodded in agreement. Feeling awkward, Hermione shrugged. "I... yes. I can see why that would be. But it isn't my secret to tell."

Neville smiled. "And they took exception to that. You keeping Atreus' secrets, I mean."

Hermione blinked. "You're very perceptive, Neville."

He lowered his eyes to his plate. "Everyone sort of paired up in our year right away. Seamus and Dean, Harry and Ron, Pavarti and Lavender. Then you joined Harry and Ron, and for a while it was just me. I mean, you were nice, but I didn't really have any friends for the first two years of school. Then Ginny decided to more or less adopt me and Luna, and since Luna and Harry already were starting to get on..."

"It wasn't like that," Ginny protested.

"Yes it was," he responded mildly. "But it's alright, I don't mind. I'm glad you did. The point is, we all sort of had our groups, but anyone with eyes could see that Harry and Ron have been using their friendship with you as a bit of a bludgeon. It isn't fair that they cut you in and out, depending on whether they agree with you or not. I like how things have become, where we're all a bit more of a group now. Now you've brought in Atreus, too, and none of us is forced to be alone anymore. If a couple of us want to be unreasonable prats because friends keep each other's secrets sometimes, even from other friends," he paused, glancing over his shoulder meaningfully, "they're the ones missing out now."

Hermione huffed out a breath. "Thank you, Neville. You're a good friend."

"So are you, Hermione," he said firmly. "Don't let them say otherwise."

"We'll have fun after class today at Atreus' party, even if they don't come," said Ginny. "I got him a certificate for my brothers' new shop and one of their owl-order catalogues. Think he'll like it?"

"I do," Hermione nodded. She had already given her own gift to Atreus that morning-a set of borosilicate potion beakers and vials that she had transfigured herself in various colors. While not as expensive or elaborate as her Christmas gift, he seemed to recognize that the heat-resistant glass was deceptively tricky to transfigure, and genuinely appreciate them.

"Oh," she said suddenly, "I've just realised I'm going to be late for Defence."

"And I've got Care of Magical Creatures," Neville added.

Ginny laughed as Hermione frantically loaded her book bag. "On the whole, Hagrid's a bit more lax about punctuality than Snape, though," she teased. "Honestly, Hermione, if it weren't for their looks, you'd never guess Atreus was related to Snape. Atreus definitely got all the nice genes."

It was a struggle for Hermione not to laugh at the irony as she nearly flew out the door. She _was_ nearly late for class, sliding in next to Atreus just as the time turned over. Professor Snape was already at the front, and he shot her an irritated look. "Stay after class, Miss Granger."

Hermione pursed her lips, not bothering to protest that she hadn't _technically_ been late. She mumbled her acquiescence, and opened her book to his prescribed page, surprised to see that the day's lesson was not on counter-curses or light spells.

The professor spent a full minute pacing slowly across the front of the room, apparently deep in thought. He finally stopped, his movements precise and deliberate as he glanced up at the students in front of him. He wasn't looking at her, but his voice was exactly the same purring murmur that Atreus had used whilst making love, and her body's reaction was fierce and immediate. Hermione darted a glance at her boyfriend, but his focus was entirely on the professor's words.

"The best defence you could possibly have, be it against dark magic or not, is the creation and upkeep of personal wards. They can be as unsubtle as a simple physical barrier, a visual misdirection or a trap to entangle movement. The truly magnificent wards can entrance the mind, strip memory, or even leech the magics of the uninvited guest… if you have the power, patience and attention to see them to correctly."

Hermione fell into the lecture, spellbound,as she listened to Professor Snape's voice rise and fall, forgetting to take notes entirely. She found herself torn throughout the class between fascinated by the subject matter, aroused by his voice, and horrified that she was having _those_ thoughts about her professor-even if he was genetically the same person as her boyfriend.

She gathered her things, approaching the professor as her classmates left. She was mortified to find that her knickers were a bit damp, and hoped Atreus was unable to tell that she was feeling a bit off. It helped looking at Professor Snape. He looked so much older and more sour than Atreus. Deep lines bracketed his mouth, his frame was unnaturally thin, and his teeth horrifically uneven. She was used to Atreus' repaired bite.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Professor Snape's gaze sharpened as he focused on her. "Yes. At Christmas I received an anonymous gift. A winter cloak of exceptionally fine weave and charmed to resist damp and cold. Then, this morning, another gift was delivered. A leather-bound journal for notes, embossed with my initials." He paused, and Hermione winced as she waited for the inevitable question. "I am fairly certain that they were not gifts from colleagues. Atreus always signs the gifts he gives me. And so I must ask, Miss Granger: do you know who sent these gifts?"

Hermione felt her cheeks heat. She felt like a prat. So much for anonymous gift-giving. "I… erm," she stammered.

Professor Snape sighed. "Indeed. Dismissed, Miss Granger."

"Yes, sir." Hermione grabbed her bag and headed for the door. Unable to stop herself, she paused in the doorway and looked back briefly. "Happy birthday, sir."

She escaped before she could see his reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy spring, everyone! If I have a reader on Maui, you should let me know-I'm headed there mid-month for my first vacation since the children were born. I would love to meet you in person! XOXO -Tyche


	32. Severus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** A time travel story. When fifth-year Severus Snape tries to create a forward time-travelling elixir to prove his worthiness to Lord Voldemort, he is disappointed to find that his creation is worthless. Or is it?
> 
> **Disclaimer:** All recognizable characters and fictional places do not belong to me; I am merely borrowing them for playtime before (respectfully) putting them back. Thank you, JKR, for allowing such things to happen.
> 
> **Pairings/Main Characters** Hermione Granger and Severus Snape, the other Severus Snape. A cast of other canon characters and couple of OFCs as well.
> 
> **Warnings:** This story is rated NC-17/MA, and it is _not_ suitable for children under age 18. It is Alternate Universe, and includes strong language, lemons (graphic sex), violence and mention of violence/torture, unresolved sexual tension, and major character death. 
> 
> **Thank You:** To the village that has raised this baby over the course of several chapters: Roo, Tom Without, Allee, Lauren, Nathaniel Cardeau, ThornedHuntress and Dragoon811. Additional thanks to my current amazing "Team Tyche," who have listened to me bounce ideas and have cleaned up my writing, making this story so, so much more than it would have been otherwise: BSC_AG, AdelaideArcher, Vezza and Stgulik.
> 
>   
>    
>    
>  A thousand further thank yous to the extremely talented SusanMarieR, who created the official banner and cover art for this piece.    
> 

**SEVERUS, REDUX  
By: TycheSong**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-One:** _(In which a lot of conversations, revelations and reconciliations are had...)_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1 March 1998 10:03 AM_

Severus sat across from Hermione in the library, their books open around them, and slowly tried to work his way past the mental shields she had erected. He was both frustrated and pleased by how far she had improved in the eight months since he had started teaching her. She had been rather abysmal at keeping him out in the beginning, and he had taken care not penetrate her thoughts very deeply. Despite his curiosity about a girl--any girl--who had an interest in him, the last thing he wanted to do was betray her trust. 

Reading Hermione's thoughts in a straightforward manner was now close to impossible; she had learnt to clear her thoughts and freeze her mind into a complicated and confusing maze of thick, crystalline ice, mirrored and jagged all about him like a carnival funhouse. He could sense her thoughts and emotions nearby, little flashes of colour on the ice in his peripheral vision, but couldn't quite locate them, nor find an opening through the reflections, twists and turns. _I still have a few ways in, though._

Without warning his hands snapped out and his fingers dug into the sensitive tissue just under her ribs, tickling mercilessly, just as he rammed his consciousness at the nearest wall of ice. The frozen maze suddenly cracked and vanished, and Severus found himself diving deep into her mind before he caught himself. He found a deep, nagging anxiety there, swirling around several subjects. The Dark Lord and the war were chief among them, as were Potter and Weasley. How they were getting along without her, both in their schoolwork and in whatever special tasks Professor Dumbledore had set the messy-haired boy? She worried about Severus, too. She had noticed that he seemed to be ill when he left Hogwarts, and that the illness was accelerating in seriousness in shorter periods of time. She worried something was seriously wrong, and she worried he'd find out about her secret, and shun her like Potter for keeping it. 

Reflexively he wanted to dig deeper, to uncover what she was hiding and assuage his own insecurity. Was she lying about her feelings? Hiding something about the professor? Severus' own fears seemed to entangle with hers and reflect back, doubling and rebounding until he had trouble distinguishing her panic from his own. Severus sucked in a deep breath, recoiling from the recesses of her mind as what he was doing struck him. However curious and concerned he was, violating her privacy and betraying her trust was the last thing he wanted to do. 

For a moment they both sat, breathing heavily and staring at each other. Then Hermione's eyes closed miserably, her head bowing. Feeling ashamed, and terrified she would leave him, Severus gripped the table in front of him. "I'm sorry," he offered, his voice catching. "I didn't mean to go so deep. I didn't… I didn't see whatever it was, and I won't ask. Hermione?" 

Her eyes lifted again to meet his squarely, and he could see a detachment in them that meant her Occlumancy shields were back up in full force. She said quietly, "I know you didn't mean to go that deep; all the same... don't do it again. Not without permission. That was…" she trailed off, and shuddered before collecting herself. Her tone became business-like. "I would rather try to address whatever you managed to see rather than let it poison us, though, if you have questions or worries." 

Severus nearly collapsed on the table in relief. She wasn't going to storm off and never speak to him again. Instead, she was _offering_ to discuss what he had seen. She really _was_ brave. Sometimes he forgot, with the conversations they had and her thirst for knowledge, that she wasn't sorted properly into Ravenclaw. 

"I saw that you are deeply worried about a lot of things." Severus dropped his eyes to the table, reluctant. When she remained silent, he continued, "You're worried about Potter and Weasley and the Dark Lord. You're worried about me, and how I've been getting sick, and...and you're worried that I'll find something out that you don't want me to." He was whispering as he finished, uncertain if he should ask despite wanting to.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I have a couple secrets, to be honest. I _can't_ tell you one of them. I honestly want to, but Dumbledore has made me promise to not say anything to anyone. I swear I would not keep it from you if it were my choice." She hesitated, then added in a small voice, "I hope you understand."

"I'm not as stupid as Potter," he answered, recalling her earlier thoughts. "It isn't your secret to tell."

She let out a small sigh of relief. "Exactly. The other secret… well, I'd rather not say, but I don't want you upset and worried over me keeping it." Her lips thinned when she saw his carefully blank expression. "You have a powerful voice. It's rather sinfully delicious to listen to; you could probably turn me on reading the dictionary."

Severus felt his mouth curl into a naughty smile, and lowered his voice to a sultry, rolling purr. "Is it really so awful that I would know how to… arouse you?" To his delight, her eyes dilated in response and her cheeks flushed.

"Um, yes, I mean no. It's just that, the problem is, you're not the only one who's got it, and he can be rather… enthused about his current subject. So…"

An ugly, unreasonably jealous emotion rose in him, and he struggled to reign it in. His older self _did_ have the same voice, even if they weren't really the same person anymore. Severus clamped down on his emotions hard, thinking furiously. Perhaps this was why she had seemed less than perfectly honest when he had asked if his older self had given an indication of interest toward her. He took a deep, heavy breath, letting it out in a long, even stream. He was not happy about it, but flying off the handle wouldn't get him anywhere. If there was one thing he had learnt from his encounter with Lily, it was that. He'd deal with it later, when he had time to properly sort through that mess of emotion without anyone to see.

He changed the subject abruptly. "You are almost obsessively worried: about Potter, and about me.” He said it softly, plainly, knowing that the simple statement would garner a more thorough response from her than any question would.

Hermione’s fingers worried a lock of her hair. True to his expectations, she immediately began talking. "I _am_ worried about the boys; that cannot be a surprise to you. Even if things are uncomfortable between them and me or just “between us,” they have still been my friends for a long time. I’m used to being someone Harry turns to, you see, and he has an enormous propensity for getting in trouble.

"And yes, I am worried about you. Especially you." Her eyes met his. "I love you, and it can't have escaped your notice that you seem to get sick in some way every time you leave Hogwarts. It seems to happen earlier and get worse faster. I'm scared of how bad it will get in the summer when we leave for several weeks again. The last time you were away for so long was when you'd only first arrived, and by the time school started you could hardly stand. Have you talked to Madam Pomfrey about it at all?"

Severus squirmed a little and shook his head. "No, I haven't wanted to worry her. She wasn't able to do anything about my cold over the summer, after all." He studied her quietly and said, "I've gotten sick at Hogwarts once or twice, as well, but I'm not certain if it is the same kind of sick or just an ordinary cold. I can't really research it without more data. I hadn't realised you were so concerned about it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she thought, then suddenly stood, gathering her things from the library table. "I am. And yes, we can. At least, as it may or may not pertain to your special circumstances."

"What do you mean?" Severus eyed her, cautious. The last time she'd had this particular glint in her eye she had spent almost a week in the dusty archives of the library, hardly surfacing for meals. He'd had to come and bodily drag her out on one occasion. 

"I _mean_ that we do still have a Magical Theory teacher who we could at least have a hypothetical conversation with, _and_ you were told that you're not the first--by the Sorting Hat, not Vector! That means someone like you has come through Hogwarts before. There's precedent, someone is bound to remember. Someone who won't just talk in circles, or lie."

Severus nodded, and then checked the time. "Alright, we still have an hour before lunch. Professor Saxena should still be in his office." Hermione slipped her hand into his, smiling brilliantly as they left. 

They found Professor Satish Saxena staring intently at a map of Hogwarts and its grounds, tapping a long finger against his lips. He glanced up when they entered and smiled in welcome, tapping the map to roll it up with a snap. "Ah, Miss Granger. One of my favourite young debaters. Did you read the book I recommended?"

Hermione shook her head. "No sir, I mean, yes, it was fascinating, but actually we've come for another reason." 

The young professor looked surprised. "Oh? As I recall neither of you are having trouble in my class."

Severus shifted his weight. "No, sir, we were reading the supplemental text. Class covers how magic displaces space and time on a regular basis in the wizarding world, but I've noticed we haven't really spent any time on time travel itself."

Professor Saxena looked both amused and resigned. "It's not something that is taught in school, even to the Seventh Years. That sort of knowledge is generally gained through an appropriate apprenticeship." He lifted a brow wryly at Hermione. "No doubt you've already exhausted what resources you can find in the library?"

Severus failed to stifle his laugh. Hermione certainly had a reputation! She blushed and glared a little in response. Professor Saxena chuckled and shrugged. "Alright, I suppose I can go over the basics with you. Time travel is theoretically possible using a variety of methods. The most obvious way would to use the Time point on a Rite Octogram as the focus. However, this is probably the least easy way to go about it. It would take _immense_ power, and if all the casters involved in the rite were not perfectly synchronised, there is an excellent chance it would kill them all.

"Most time travellers use an enchanted object as a catalyst. There are a few such objects out there: Time-Turners, a few variations of magical sundials. There's a room in Mumbai that could allegedly do it, but doesn't work now. There's another at Petra that the Jordanians claim still works. All of them are very carefully guarded and monitored. From what I understand, only the Petra room can transport further back than a single day."

"Can you only go backward?" Severus asked, "Or can you time-travel forward as well?" He knew he was probably tickling the proverbial sleeping dragon by asking, but couldn't seem to help himself.

The professor shrugged. "That's where things get a bit murky. There are recorded instances of it happening, but in every case it has proven to be more difficult than going back. Most researchers believe it can't be done cleanly--that because it is so far outside of the natural order of things, something will always go wrong."

 

Severus, and he carefully did not look at Hermione. "Like...it might make you sick? Or…?" 

Professor Saxena laughed and settled back, leaning against his own desk. "I don't know _that_ much about it, Mister Prince. My mastery is in spells, but time travel was not a focus of mine. I suppose it could make you sick, or it maybe it would scramble your mind, or drain your magic, or it might even rip you apart entirely. Time travel is very heavily regulated in every nation I know of that has succeeded in it, and detailed accounts or research about _forward_ travellers are just not available. All I can really tell you are theories."

Hermione jumped in, "Like what? What kind of hypothetical theory? Why would it rip you apart?"

The professor shook his head. "You are incredibly persistent, Miss Granger. You recall another point on the Rite Octagram is thought or will? The future is not set. Travelling backward works because everything you might do or change has already happened; it's a closed loop. You've already made the decision to go back, you've already made the changes that you decide to make by the time you decide to go back. At least, that's the prevailing theory. The future is a bit more complicated. There are a couple different theories regarding the future. It's why Divination is such an imprecise art."

Hermione snorted and Severus hid a grin.

"Yes," Professor Saxena said dryly, "I'm well aware of your opinions on the matter. You'll notice I said art, not science, Miss Granger. Divination, despite your misgivings, is certainly real; true prophesies and readings exist. When it comes to time travel, however…" He shrugged. "One theory is that every decision you are presented with creates an alternate possibility. This makes jumping to or reading the 'right' future--as it were--difficult. So, theoretically, you could jump to more than one possible future and tear yourself apart. It's exerting a great deal of magical pressure on a fundamental force. Since ripping a force of nature is close to impossible, you would be more likely to rip yourself. 

"Another theory is that time flows like a river down a mountain. Pieces of it may branch off and eddy with decisions and circumstances, but in the end, there are only so many paths down and it all ends up eventually in the same place--the bottom. So this theory posits that jumping forward is only possible to those non-branching points, the places that are fixed; unable to change no matter what decisions are made, and that regardless of what you do, the end result will be the same. Because your presence may be needed for one of those fixed points to remain fixed, it would be impossible to push yourself out of time ahead of those points."

_Unless..._ thought Severus, _unless magic tries to correct the problem by creating a copy ahead of the fixed point._ The idea chilled him. His mouth dry, he managed to say, "Well, it's certainly interesting, isn't it? Thank you for indulging us, sir, but, uh, it's nearly lunch time." 

His professor looked amused again, and said, "I'll escort the two of you down."

"What about a potion?" Hermione asked as they made their way toward the stairs. "If time can be manipulated by something as small as a Time-Turner, surely a potion could, as well. Professor Snape has always maintained that Potions Magic is the equal of any spell." 

The Magical Theory professor nodded sagely. "It is, though they don't always accomplish the same precise thing. Both spells and potions can heal, but not quite the same way, after all. Potions, Ley, Spells and Runic magic all complement each other; they don't compete with each other. Nearly everything important in this world hinges on a balance of four. Why else would it be 'the most important Arithmantical number?'" he asked philosophically.

Severus thought about it, murmuring, "The Octogram is two sets of four: the elements and the forces."

"There were four Founders, too. Two male, two female, each a master in a separate magical field," Hermione added.

Professor Saxena smiled broadly and nodded. "Even your basic health is a balance between mental and physical, the spiritual and the social. Damage one, the rest suffer." The professor gave Hermione a pointed look.

"Why did you give me that look?" she asked.

The professor pursed his lips. "It is no secret, Miss Granger, that a rift exists between you and your friends. Call it friendly advice."

"I'm not the one who did anything wrong, and I'm tired of always being the one who must apologise. I won't do it this time."

The professor shrugged softly. "As you say, _meri peyari._ "

* * *

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 3 March 1998 3:30 PM_

Severus was only idly listening to Professor Flitwick's lecture on permanently charming objects. Instead, he was making notes in his book about interesting Latin combinations to try stringing together based on root wand motions. The double class was nearly over, when across the centre aisle, Lavender Brown suddenly stood and shrieked at the boy next to her. "You are such an unbelievable _arsehole_ Ron Weasley!" Her wand flashed in his direction. Weasley gave a surprised, pained shout before he was blown backward out of his chair.

" _Accio_." Professor Flitwick's wand snapped with surprising speed. Lavender’s wand was in his hand the next moment, and he was already working his way toward the fallen redhead, but the girl wasn't done. She waved a scrap of paper, clearly a note that she had either been passed or had been intercepted, continuing to shriek as if they weren't in the middle of class.

"You've been avoiding me for weeks. _Weeks_! Then Parvarti had it from Seamus who had it from Dean that you never did play pick-up Quidditch last week with her and Harry and Angelina, _because Ginny was with Dean that whole time!_ Which means you're sneaking around behind my back! Now, _this_!" Lavender shook the paper again. "I can't believe you told Harry that I'm an annoying airhead! And you called me a bint!" Her arm dropped to her side, and tears started to leak down her face. "I should hex you to pieces!"

"Miss Brown, twenty points from Gryffindor. Mister Malfoy, Mister Prince, please see Mister Weasley to the hospital wing."

Severus met Malfoy's eyes and gave a short nod as he stood. With a jerk, the other boy stood as well. Weasley appeared to be unconscious, an ugly, burnt gash on the side of his face. Severus whistled low, between his teeth, and muttered, "Nice bit of nasty work. Who would've thought Brown had it in her?"

Malfoy's lips tipped very slightly, the smile not reaching his eyes, and murmured back, "Weasley makes it easy. I'm surprised you hadn't noticed." His wand swished, measured and graceful, and Weasley rose under a non-verbal _mobilicorpus._ It was well done, and Severus couldn't help but admire it. 

"Nice," Severus complimented. Malfoy gave that strange, little smile that didn't reach his eyes again in acknowledgement. Severus studied the other boy covertly, only half paying attention to Weasley as they steered him through the halls. Draco Malfoy was thinner than he should be, his eyes shadowed to the point where they looked almost bruised. His stance was wound tight to the point of brittle, and an alert fear lurked in his eyes. It looked...very wrong on a Malfoy.

It was conflicting. The boy had made it clear that he had no respect for Hermione, would even be happy to see her as a second class member of society. His bullying tactics from earlier in the year had been reminiscent of Black, and once Severus had seen them, he'd written the young Malfoy heir off. And yet… and yet. 

This boy's father was his sponsor, his mentor. Lucius Malfoy’s influence had been Severus' protection, both in Slytherin House and out of it. When Severus had slept outside of Gryffindor's dorm and sent what little status he had in Slytherin plummeting, it had been Lucius's influence that had kept his head above water. Only last year, he had used his connections to obtain Severus introduction to the society he would have been otherwise barred from, had offered him a place at his table and a path to a possible apprenticeship. A path that had worked out, if the professor was any indication. Slytherin House took its sponsorships seriously; a debt was owed to Lucius Malfoy and his son, even if he couldn't openly acknowledge it. 

Checking to be sure that Weasley was still out of it, he said quietly, "I can't help but notice that you seem to be… out of sorts."

Malfoy's head turned sharply in his direction. "What would you care, Prince?"

"You and I are not friends, but nor am I the sort to run my mouth. Should you need someone to listen without judgement or motivation to tattle, I would. I'd even be willing to swear to keep your confidence."

Draco sneered. "I'm fine." His jaw twitched a little, however, and his eyes held a wary hope of relief. "Why would you offer something like that anyway?" 

Severus carefully kept his eyes ahead as the hospital wing finally came into view. "Everyone seems to be taking sides, one or the other. Maybe I'm just the sort that believes that most people have more than one side to them. Offer stands."

They arrived, pointedly not looking at each other, and Madam Pomfrey bustled to meet them, her wand already moving as they transferred the unconscious boy to her care. The courtyard clock struck four, signaling the end of class. Malfoy gave him another sharp look and left, turning on his heel and not looking back.

"Stay a bit, will you, Atreus? We haven't had any time to talk recently." Madam Pomfrey was now smearing some paste onto Weasley's face. Smiling a little, Severus settled in, resigning himself to being mothered and badgered about his marks. 

They were wading through a rather embarrassing conversation regarding Hermione and whether or not he was being safe-- _Merlin!_ \--when Hermione showed up with Potter. The two of them were clearly not arriving together, their avoidance of each other palpable.

"Is he alright?" Hermione asked, nodding her chin at Weasley.

"I thought you were here for _him_.” Potter crossed his arms defensively, glaring at Severus. "Why do you care if Ron's alright? You haven't spoken to either of us in two months."

His girlfriend rolled her eyes. "You haven't spoken to _me_ either, Harry Potter. It doesn't mean I don't care. You've been my best friends for years. I care. I just… don't understand why everything always has to be you and your opinion and your way or against you. You got along alright with Atreus before you found out. Now you know, and suddenly Atreus can't possibly be the same person you drank butterbeer and played chess and gobstones with? Just because in a different time, he made different choices and became a different person that you don't like? Now you know, and suddenly I'm your enemy, even though we've fought side by side and back to back through all the stupid shite over the years. That doesn't make sense."

Potter's eyes dropped.

Feeling a sense of _deja vu_ , Severus repeated his earlier words to Malfoy. "Maybe people have more than one side to them." He offered it like an olive branch, and Potter glanced up in surprise. "Not everything is black and white and has a straight answer. Would you keep a secret from Hermione if Weasley asked you to? What if Weasley _and_ Professor Dumbledore asked you, and then told you it might kill Weasley if you didn't? That's basically what happened."

Potter nodded. "You're right. I don't… I don't know that you and me will ever be friends, really. But you are right, and I don't want to not be Hermione's friend." He looked at her, and repeated, "I don't want us to not be friends. I'm sorry. But… can we not keep secrets? Please?"

Hermione nodded. "I've only got a couple more, really. I haven't told you because of Atreus, and I haven't told Atreus because of you."

Potter looked confused, and Severus couldn't help but snort a little. Wryly, he asked, "Are you going to offer any clues?"

Hermione looked irritated. "Atreus, Harry hasn't always been as good at Potions as he is this year. In the meantime, Atreus is using his mother's maiden name." 

"So?" Potter shrugged belligerently and then froze as he suddenly understood. "Prince. Your last name is Prince, and it was your mum's name... So you… the other you, I mean, were the Half-Blood Prince."

Cautiously, Severus said, "You know that name because..."

"You wrote it in your textbook. Erm. The other you, did, at least." 

Both boys stared at each other in mutual horror for a moment. "I'd like my book back, Potter," said Severus.

"Well, it's not like it's _yours_ really, now is it?" Potter replied.

Their conversation was cut short as a student dashed into the hospital wing. "Madam Pomfrey, Madam Pomfrey! Come quick, Professor Slughorn's been _poisoned!"_

The matron ran out of her office faster than Severus had ever seen her move before. "Where is he?"

"Upstairs, in his rooms, Professor Snape sent me. He's already treating him, but told me to come get you. Says he needs your box!"

"Yes, of course! I'm on my way!" She ran back into her office and re-emerged with a metal box, disappearing out the door.

Severus exchanged a shocked look with his girlfriend. "Poisoned?" she asked, bewildered. "He's a bit annoying, but harmless for the most part. Who would want to poison Professor Slughorn?" 

Potter had gone deathly pale. "Voldemort, Hermione. Voldemort would. He knows something. Something I'm supposed to try to find out. Hermione, I forgot that you don't know. Dumbledore's finally told me what he thinks Voldemort's doing, and he says Slughorn knows something about it."

Hermione shook her head. "What could _Professor Slughorn_ possibly know that would threaten Voldemort?"

"Ever heard of a Horcrux?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say a special thank you to my beta team, BSC_AG, Vezza and Stgulik, who went through two or three re-writes on this chapter. Thank you, you are all absolute gemstones! Thank you also to Groot, PhoenixRebel, FeliceB and QuinnzelRose. Your comments and conversations these last few weeks were both delightful and just the kick in the pants my motivation needed to get back to work.
> 
> I'd also like to throw a more random shout-out to RedsAttic, who I noticed lives not too far from me. I tend to check out the profiles of people who favourite or review me just to see who I reach and what else they enjoy. Your PM feature was turned off, so I was unable to say hello privately, but it was exciting to see that I have a reader from the Puget Sound area. :-D *waves*
> 
> Final note: If you are a facebook person and looking for some prompts, I've just started a new group called Tyche's Prompts and Challenges. Anyone in any fandom (or writing original work) is welcome to join. :-)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is currently incomplete but has been plotted out to the end and will NOT be abandoned. I am expecting it to be about 43 chapters total.


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